


Thomas Cloverleigh Echoes of the Past

by psto1464



Series: Thomas CloverLeigh [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fantasy, Original Character(s), Other, POV Male Character, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 76,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psto1464/pseuds/psto1464
Summary: When a couple arrives to adopt Thomas Cloverleigh, a decade-old secret is revealed to himthat apparently he's the last to know. His mother was a witch and his father a vampire, whereabouts unknown since Thomas was just a baby, and how he arrived at the orphanage is within it's self a mystery. Leaving his unsympathetic caretakers for a new family. He joins his adoptive parents son, Lars, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Thomas stumbles upon a sinister mystery when he finds a body without a soul. Then he hears of a whispers of old powers with ties to the great Harry Potter, which could be amazing, dangerous – or both. An incredible adventure is about to begin!
Series: Thomas CloverLeigh [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602109
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. For Our Son

**Author's Note:**

> Before the series starts next week. I want to make a few things clear. This is a work of fan-fiction, yes, but I will be also adding in some of my own folklore. Also, the Thomas Cloverleigh series is LBGT+ friendly. Relationships will not form or get sexual until the fifth or sixth year.
> 
> Any future NSFW scenes will be marked, and consider side chapters. Meaning you can skip them and read on without missing anything. If any of this offends you, or is simply not your cup of tea. Then please do not read.

It was darker than midnight. Not a star danced in the sky, nor a flicker of the moon could be seen. Large stones marked the path in the small English town. Lined on their sides was dented and rusting lights. Flickering yellow before shattered into a nothingness. Not a soul notice this happening. All far to busy in their own homes to care, and the town far to small to have any wondering their streets so late in the night. Old men sitting in their boxers, fell asleep watching their shows. Crying babies passed out for no reason in their grateful parents arms.

Slowly, from one worn house to the next. People fell asleep, not even a yawn passed the lips of the lone midnight snacker. They slid to the floor nightgown and all. If they did wake their eyes would bulge, and the whispers would brew. For out in the darkness, out any wondering eyes; was two people flying high on a single broom. A lean man riding in front looked ragged and beating.

His name Eric Blood, his name was notorious in the best sort of ways. A vampire hero, who saved both the siren's of Ireland, and the witches. Being a hero didn't help save him. Eric's robe laid in tatters around his shoulders, and his hands cut and bruised, shook on the handle of the broom. His black eyes were large, filled with the light of a caring man.

Now they narrowed in determinations, his will grinding his teeth. His fangs dug into his bottom lip, making them bleed. He welcomed the blood. The copper taste reminded him to live, not for the ones leaning on his back, but for the one they left behind. Tightening his hands until they turned white, he lowered the broom.

How vampire could ride a broom, though unknown to most; was not a big secret. Bound to his wife, a pure blood witch; he learned a few tricks other vampires could not. He was blessed in many ways, but cursed in another; cursed by old evils that refused to rot in their graves. Old evils that made him run from Ireland, his home; their home.

Sweeping over roofs. He saw the torn shingles of the poor outskirt town. Ignoring the pain in his chest he flew on, past the shops and chewed up pave roads. Turning at the first dirt path he took them up a small hill. The worn, and degraded manor. A grimace tore what handsome looks he had right of his face. He may not have a heartbeat, but it didn't stop his heart from hurting.

“Terra we're here.” His lips did not move as he spoke, instead he talked directly into his wife's mind. Not daring to utter a word which might bring their hunters. Even in their minds, his voice carried his rolling Irish brogue. Something he would never loose, despite being so far from home.

“It's offal Eric, why must we leave him!” Terra replied in the same fashion, her accent more of a song than a roll. She appeared in better shape than him. Bags shagged her brown eyes, and turned her peach skin white. Her robe and long curly hair were wild and clinging to dirt. A tiny woman that couldn't look her husband in the eyes without a step. It was a miracle that she could hold their baby. Clutching a small bundled waddled in red. Despite all the commotion, their child laid sleeping peacefully in his mother's arms. Trusting, despite everything; in his parents.

“They'll never look for him here.” Eric sent waves of comfort through their link. The broom slowed to a stop, he lowered his family to the ground. Stopping in the yard of the offal place.

“We lost Veronica!” Terra cried with large tears rolling down her face. Rocking their baby more for her own comfort than for his. “I don't want to lose him too!”

“I'm sorry.” Pain, soul searing pain; broke Eric's voice. Veronica was the tie, the balance between them. The lost was more than any witch or vampire to bare. Pulling Terra and his son into his arms, he gentle rocked them both. Letting her cry. A vampire could shed no tears, but he always wondered if that would help him ease his pain if he could? Holding his wife until her tears fell into whimpers. Eric thought that he couldn't hurt.His eyes drifted to the old manor, dead and decaying. Once proud towers were leaning to one side, singles laid in rambles on the roof and patches laid on the ground. Bricks crumbled and fell to dust off the exterior walls of the home. It appeared that someone attempted to paint them grey at some point.

Only to have it peel off and make the home look worse. To say this place was haunted, not a single person would doubt you. At the very least the original owner turned in his grave. What made matters worse was the wood weather sign, it sat on a slight tilt above the simple wood door. 'Cloverleigh Orphanage' it read in bold and ugly script. Children lived here, and this is where the Blood family was leaving their son.

“They can't even take care of the building!” His wife shook and tears filled her red glazed brown eyes. Raising her chin he wiped the tears from her eyes with a gentle hand. 

“I know. I had a thrall check out this place for us.” Eric told her solemnly. The place was better than where he grew up, but he knew that truth would bring no comfort here. 

“Then he knows where we are?” Terra rocked her baby, not at all hiding her fright in her shaking frame.

“No. I killed him.” Eric said. To him it was a small matter. Death came to the weak, it was the vampires way. Terra's eyes pinched. She could never do it herself, but she couldn't stop the sigh of relieve that the death brought her.

“Mm.” A small noise like a purr came from the bundle. Both parents stopped, a smile spread across their faces. Their hearts cried. Through their bond they pained was equal, and shared; both carried the burden of what they must do.

“For him.” Eric spoke through their bond, sharing not pain, but his strength to his wilting wife. To have a son, was a rare and joyous thing to Eric, but for Terra who gave birth to their little miracle. The pain turned in her like a knife.

“Isn't there another way?” Tears fell in little drops onto their sons face. Making his large eyes blink open, and his little mouth yawn. They say babies can't smile, can't laugh. Their son did. Looking right into the faces of his parents. He wiggled until his arms were free. Smiling he took the outreach finger that his father offered before his eyes fell shut again.

“Can't we take him with us?” Terra watched it, and despite his calm demeaner, she knew Eric wanted the same.

“His life would hard, harder than here.” Eric whispered. Ignoring the chance they may not survive. A life on the run, was no place for the child. “We must protect him. We must be strong.”

“I know.” Terra's shoulder slumped in defeat. She knew all along, but what mother wished to part with her child?

“It'll just be eleven years. Then he'll go to school.” Eric said gentle taking his tiny son in his arms. Terra wiped her face with her palms. 

“I wish he could go to my school.” Terra loved her school in the rolling greens of her Irish home. 

“England has the Potter family. They need more strength before they'll venture forth here.” Eric didn't like the idea of relaying on another's strength, but he was a man without options. Walking up the four steps to the door, his wife followed behind. Pulling her wand from her robe sleeve she summoned a small basket to place their child in.

“Good luck my son.” Eric said through the tie that he shared through his only son. Putting him into the basket with great care. He took off the necklace from around his own neck, he placed it around his son's. It was a small heart with a Celtic knot embedded in its front. Flipping around Eric showed it to Terra. With a gentle flick of her wrist, she craved her son's name into the locket's back.

“This should help keep your vampire nature in check.” Eric put it over his small head, with shaking hands. Watching it shrink to fit, he didn't fear the necklace would choke him. Made from his own magi, and blood; it would not harm his son. A last act of care, he placed a small kiss on his son head.

“I love you,” Terra said placing her own small charms on the locket. Making sure no one could steal their son's only gift from him. “At least you'll have this.” Terra smiled, ignoring the taste of her own tears on her lips.

“He'll do great.” Eric reassured. “He is our son.” Pulling her by the arm. He felt her body fall into another quake. Again with the unending stream of tears rolling down her face. He could do nothing for that this time. His own eyes blurred red with his own anger. Picking up the broom, he straddled it and got his wife to hold onto to his waist.

“I love you my son.” Eric whispered out loud, taking the risk to share the heavy load of emotions with his child. “One day, one day we'll be a family again. I swear.” With his vow he kicked them high into the air. His back soaked with the tears of his wife, they fled England. Leading those who haunted far away from the most important thing to them, their son. They could only hoped that one day he would understand.


	2. Thomas

With a loud curse, little Thomas was found that morning. Cuddle in a red blanket, in a little basket. Looking out on the world with his black eyes, his faced pinched, and his mouth quivered. Not a tear broke loose from the babies eyes. Only a little whimper came from his lips as the balding man brought him into the manor. Time flew, and one way or another ten years flew by. Inside the manor, things remained worn, but it was a charming home. 

A dozen children called the manor home. The floor board squeak with age, but this didn't stop the girls from running around. Playing hide-and-seek, or the boys from battling imaginary armies in the large waiting room. In the summer the drafts from the window were refreshing. The thick carpets lining the floors became a hot maze of worlds for the children to play on. It also did a fine job covering the lifting floorboards. 

Mrs. Row was humming in the kitchen, making cookies with the help of the older girls. They all wore simple dresses made by Mrs. Row. They were of modest cut, and in cute flower patterns. Perfect for the summer, and suitable for their small town roots. Like hers. Their hair was all similar fashion, Mrs. Row taught all the girls the beauty of a braided bun. They looked just like her daughters despite their very different looks. 

Even the boys clothes were made by Mrs. Row. She took great pride into turning old bedding into dress shirts. Shrinking down men's pants to fit a growing boy. Mr. Row was a carpenter by trade, and did all the maintenance. Mr. Row, who despite is evolving waist size. Wore tight brown work pants, and stretched black suspenders over his gut. They appeared like they would pop. 

None of the boys could be convinced to wear a pair themselves. The horror of them ingrained in their heads by no one other than Mr. Row. Today Mr. Row had the boys helping him fix the outside. Taking off peeling paint, pulling on towering weeds. Not the short ones, or they would have balding spot in the grass. Why all the effort for a man that would rather lay down a rug than repair a floor board? 

For this afternoon a couple, a rich couple was coming to visit, with every attention of adopting a child. The insides were all ready. The stair well swept, lining the walls were the picture off all the children of the orphanage. Both past and present. Brenda, Marty with those curls, Linda, Lulu, on and on they went until you reached the top of the stairs. Missing from this lot was one little boy. Missing from activities in both the kitchen and outside. Even among the toddlers who ran around playing games. 

There was still one missing. Thomas, he couldn't be found on the walls in any room. Not once had his picture been taken. No proud photo of his new clothes, or school awards could be seen. Not in the hall or dining room, if you checked. Not even the bathroom held a picture. 

Really, you were left wondering if he lived there at all. Thomas did live there though, it was no fault of his own. In all honesty he wouldn't mind being anywhere else but here. While the others played and got ready for the afternoon. Thomas spent the time alone in his attic room. He liked it that way, and so did the Rows. Even the other children preferred not to see Thomas around. 

The rares times Thomas did show himself it never ended well. Boys would gang together to push Thomas around. It didn't help that for his age, Thomas was rather small. The other boys his age were a good five inches taller, and were meaner and stronger than Thomas ever good be. The girls were not much better, ever time they see him they would scream and shout. Throwing hurting names, instead of fists, yet thinking they were much better than the boys. 

Thomas always found that to be funny. Words or fist? They bother hurt the same, over the years he became immune to the worst of it, but what about others? Thomas couldn't image what kind of adults they would become. They turn out like the Rows, who acted with same way. They were sneakier with their ways, but they acted the same as the children. 

At meals, Thomas would always get less and never would he be allowed to eat at the table. Schooling, all taught by the Rows, never reached Thomas's ears. He was tossed outside to toughen himself up. This all started at the young age of six, how the Rows got away with it? Well, if you have ever been to a small town you'll know. 

The Rows had been in this town their whole lives and so did their father's and their father's before them. This meant a long history, and with that certain things could be overlooked. Like the mistreatment of a child, that many in the town, thought was a little to odd for their taste anyway. 

What made Thomas so odd? First Thomas's ears. They were strange. Pointed at the ends, he was often called a little demon. On off days Thomas explored the small town, he had someone through holy water at him- right in his face! 

Of course, he was okay, but that meant to some the locals, that he must be a strong demon. Thomas's skin was too white to be human, and his eyes black! You couldn't see his pupils. Thomas himself knew he looked odd, but he rather liked his ears, skin and eyes. They were him, and surly that was all that mattered? Of course not. 

One day Mr. Row was determined to fix his ears. Took him to the local doctor to get them fixed up right. Each time he tried, the doctor would get sick. Or there would be an outbreak of measles, or one time his house even caught a flame! The doctor told Mr. Row he would touch Thomas's ears, and he would have to live with them. Thomas was very munched relieved. He didn't even mind getting locked in his room for a week. 

This event led to Thomas growing out his hair, to cover the tips of his ears, his hair black as the night, it stood out from white skin. Mrs. Row hating this with a passion! She with the help of her little brood. Went as far to hold Thomas down to shear off his hair like she did with the other boys with unruly hair. This was horrible, far worst in Thomas's opinion than being tossed outside every day! 

He looked a mess and it was one of his worse days at the orphanage by far. He could still hear the pitched laughter coming from girls as he dragged his feet up the stairs to his room. Hiding under the covers that night, he dreaded the dawn, begging for his hair to grow back. In the morning he woke with a full head of hair! Mrs. Row fainted on the spot when she saw him. Mr. Row sent him flying out the door after that. Screaming without care. 

Thomas avoided the place for a few days, without any way to tame it once it reached his shoulders. Thomas made a small side tail with most of it and tied it off with a string he found outside. The rest sat over top and flip on the ends. His bangs he kept above the eyes, hacking them off himself with a small flip blade he kept in his pocket. With no where else to go, he went back to the orphanage. The Rows avoided him a little more after that. The boys' treatment of him went sour and Thomas spent more and more time away from the manor. 

How Thomas manged to survive it all was from the kindness of another outcast. Old Man, is all Thomas called him; and what he asked to be called. Looking like a demon himself. His face and body were all sharp angles. Old Man's face was creased with wrinkles so deep them looked like they sank straight into his bones. His eyes were glazed over white, but he could still see enough to strike fear into the towns folk. Making him the perfect partner in crime for Thomas. 

Old Man, after finding out that unlike all the other children abandon at the manor. He was not given the last name Row, he in fact, was not given one at all! Cloverleigh was the name of the Orphanage, and so the Old Man made it Thomas's too. He gave a lot of things to Thomas, never a home, he was too old for kids. Not money or items either, those would be taken from him all too quickly. Old Man gave him lessons. Life lessons he called them. 

Starting when he first showed up at six. Thomas learned different things from the average kid. Mixing drinks, and poetry was Thomas's favourite lessons. Thomas never drank any off what he made, but on the nights of those lessons. Old Man would take Thomas to the local tavern, where people sang, and laughed. Not at him, but with each other! 

Thomas like to pretend that was what a family was like. Being happy, and having fun. One other life lesson stuck with Thomas. Woodcarving. He could create anything. Anything! With a tiny bit of wood and a small knife. Some may call it whittling but Old Man made it clear, this was woodcarving. Thomas could make his own toys, trinkets, by gather a stick or a hunk of root from the woods. 

Then this past spring Old Man vanished. The Rows told him with large smug smiles that the Old Man died. Not wanting to believe he ran to Old Man's hut. Thomas only found one thing, his little flip knife. The rest. Like Old Man, was gone. 

His little flip knife became important to him, like the necklace around his neck. Touching them both reminded Thomas he was loved. At some point he was loved. Alone in his attic room - no one wanted a room beside Thomas, so he was given the attic. Thomas played with a small hunk of wood he smuggled upstairs. Carving a sharped chinned old man and wondering what he was going to do now? 

“Thomas get down here you twit!” Yelled one of the boys pounding the floor boards, sending dust into the air. Thomas didn't bat an eye at the swirling mass of grey dirt. He treated like his own personal door bell. 

“The Rows want you!” Thomas heard the boy hack a wad of spit onto the floor. Wrinkling his nose in disgust. He flipped his knife shut and tucked it into the large pockets of his jeans, along with his carving. Weaving with ease past old boxes and mouse invested trunks. 

Thomas rolled the sleeve up of his oversized plaid shirt, a gift from the Old Man, and pulled the door to the attic open. The ladder rolled down, one of the few things still working right in the old place; Thomas climbed down. Right into the furious eyes of one of the older boys, John. 

“Why do they want you!” John spit went flying right into Thomas face. “You spelled them with your witchcraft demon.” John hissed baring his croaked teeth for all to see. Thomas didn't say a word, he learned awhile ago, no matter what he said. It would only make things worse. 

“I aught save them from their own folly!” John picked Thomas up by the collar and planted him straight into the wall behind him. The wall rattle with the sound of shaking pictures, and the corner of one hit Thomas square in the back. Making his lips turn into a grimace. 

“Don't like that much, huh demon boy!” John took Thomas pained face as a challenge. Raising his fist into the air, he yelled. “Let's see if they want you with a bloody face!” Thomas closed his eyes and brace himself for the hit. 

“Oh, we want him all right.” A slow brogue rolled through the hall. Too high to be a man's, it had to be a child. For some reason the voice made him feel funny. Like he forgot something important, but just now remembered. Thomas opened his eyes, he couldn't see a thing through John fat blond head. 

“You.” John whispered releasing Thomas. Quick on his feet Thomas scurried out of reach of John's hands. Seeing a boy. Standing in the hall. He was too well-dressed to be from here. His jeans were vibrated blue, with no wear to them. He wore a bright orange scarf that stood out in contrast to his rich plum coat. Thomas was most intrigued by his eyes, they were stunning. They turned from blue, to green to grey. All in a couple blinks of his eyes. His blond hair was nice to, shinning and healthy. Thomas envied the pin straight locks that fell in layers to the boys chin. 

“Yes, me.” The boy replied. Nodding to himself he walked up to John, who was a full six inches taller; and two years older than Thomas. 

“I'm sure someone of your charm will find a home soon.” The boy smiled. It was a simple smile, but it sent shivers down Thomas spine. That smile felt dark, like the Old Man when he spoke of the Rows. 

“The local bar, or prison for example.” He tilted his head. “Or are you already familiar with those places?” Thomas watched for John reaction, he knew it wasn't going to be a good one. Sure enough Johns hand raised back into a fist. Thomas darted in front of the new boy. 

“Mrs. Row doesn't like us being late.” Thomas reminded John. John in his heart was a mum's boy. Thomas used that to his advantage when he could. Watching John lower his fist. Thomas sighed. He didn't fancy getting hit but didn't think the blond boy could handle one of John's fist. 

“Good riddance to rubbish I say.” John spat on the floor and shot Thomas a dark look. Turning his eyes to the boy behind him.“I hope he curses your home.” Spitting again John brushed past them. Knocking Thomas around before disappearing down the hall. Sighing with relieve, Thomas turned to the blond boy. 

“You should be more careful.” Thomas gave out a rare piece of advice. People rarely talked to him, so you would he give it to? 

“I'll think on it.” The flash his white teeth, made him look very cat like in his satisfaction. “Should we go down stairs?” He waved his hand, showing he wanted Thomas to go first. Shrugging Thomas went right ahead. 

“Are you excited?” The boy asked him. Thomas turned his gaze towards the boy. What would he have to be excited about? Thomas titled his head, hoping the different angle might help him figure this guy out. “You don't know!” Laughing the boy shook his head. “Of course they would never tell you. You can tell by how they were pushing all those other kids at us.” 

“Tell me what?” Blinking, Thomas felt a little happy inside, someone was talking to him. Someone his own age group, spoke to him! Without calling him a name. 

“Thomas Cloverleigh.” He said to Thomas. “We are here to adopt you.” 

“What!” Thomas shouted for the first time in his life. He didn't doubt the boys words at all. Thomas always got this squirrelly feeling in his chest whenever someone lied to him. Without that feeling, it might be that the boy was speaking the truth. 

“Welcome to the O'Sullivan family Thomas.” Thomas became surrounded by his first ever hug. It was warm, and the slight beat of the boys' chest resonated with Thomas. First this boys voice pulled at his heart, and now his hug warmed his body. To stunned to move, he had no clue what to do! Should he hug him back? Was that allowed? 

“You can hug me back.” The blond boy whispered, as if he could read Thomas's mind. Thomas slowly lifted his arms. Wrapping it around his squeezed the boy lightly. For some strange reason, this all felt right to Thomas. If anyone else tried this, he surly would have bolted. Yet, Thomas, felt this boy was different. Different enough to change his life forever. He couldn't say how he knew, only that he knew this to be true.


	3. O'Sullivan Family

“Let's go!” The blond boy broke the hug, grabbing hold of Thomas's hand he lead him down the stairs. Thomas felt eyes on him like sharp daggers while turning into the waiting room. Without looking he knew it was the other children of the home. Their jealous turned to hatred, that burned hard and deep. Thomas didn't know if there was a feeling beyond hatred, but if there was. The owners of those eyes would be feeling that towards him. 

“Ignore them Thomas.” His brogue rolled over Thomas, as he pulled them to a stop in front of the waiting room door. “You won't see them again. I promise.” Those storm cloud eyes, flickered dark grey looking around Thomas. He spoke directly at the children lurking behind him. “Or for the rest of his time here!” He voice turned harsh, and the very air around him came alive. Like magic, the sound of pounded feet bounced off the walls. The children, and their hatred running at the words of just one boy. 

“That was amazing.” Thomas turned around, looking in wonder at the empty hall, and doorways. Not even the rows could make the children scatter like that, not even in the worst of their moods. Thomas could on good days, but it was not the same thing at all. 

“It's nothing.” A hand on his shoulder tugged him around. Soft blue eyes look at Thomas, they were very gentle, reminding Thomas of their hug. It made them feel warm. “I wish I could have come sooner.” 

“It's not like you knew I was here?” Thomas said with a question. Trying, for the first time to comfort another. 

“You don't deserve to be treated this way.” Ignoring Thomas's words he grumbled on. Thomas sighed, talking was hard he decided. Looking at the frustrated boy, he didn't know how to comfort another, but he could detract him maybe? 

“What's your name?” Thomas knew his family name was O'Sullivan. 

“Lars, didn't I tell you that?” Lars lifted his head from his grumblings. Thomas shook his head. “Well, Thomas, can I call you Thomas?” Thomas nodded quickly, happy to be called by his name. “This place is enough to make a person hate muggles, but you'll be out this place soon.” Lars sighed, looking around. “This place isn't fit for a dog.” 

“Muggles?” Thomas titled his head. Thomas surely would have remembered hearing such a word before. It sounded silly, and made up. Lars said it with such everyday ease, that Thomas doubted that was the case. Lars groaned and slapped his forehead with his hand. 

“Sorry, I wasn't suppose to say anything until we get you out of this dank place.” Lars put of up hand, thumb facing his chest, and his pinky facing Thomas. He winked at Thomas and said. “Forgive me?” 

“Ah, sure.” Thomas nodded agreeing. In his mind there was nothing to forgive. Not knowing what a word meant, was no bid deal to Thomas. There was many things he didn't know, of that Thomas was certain, so what was one more? 

“Oh,” Lars smack a fist into his open hand. “Do you have anything you want to bring with you?” Lars looked Thomas up and down, “Besides clothes, we'll get you new ones.” Lars nose wrinkled. Thomas looked down at himself, he didn't know why he did; he only had a handful of outfits. All old plaid that smelled like smoke or grease, and old jeans. Cut of to fit his short legs, and tied at the waist with a yellow fraying rope. Thomas grimaced, it generally didn't bother him, but next to Lars, he did look rather bad. 

“They're all I have.” Thomas turned his face away. His stomach feeling like it dropped. It felt bad, if his stomach fell any lower, it would be at his feet. 

“Ah!” Lars took his face in his hands, turning Thomas's face towards him. “I didn't mean to make you feel bad!” Lars kissed the tip of Thomas's noise. Thomas blink, and blinked again. Can boys do that? He had seen Mrs. Row give the girls the odd peck, but never, never had he seen a boy get a peck. “I just wanted to know if you have anything important to bring.” 

“I'm good.” Thomas blinked. Lars still had a hold of his face. “I have all I need here.” Thomas patted his jean pocket. The other things he carved disappeared with the Old Man. With the necklace around his neck, and his knife in his pocket. In Thomas mind, he felt he could go anywhere. “Um, could you let go of my face now?” Thomas's eyes darted from Lars swirling eyes, to the very interesting spiderweb forming in the far corner of the door. 

“Sure.” Lars dropped his hands. Thomas's put a hand to his chest. His heart beat, which was always slow and steady, ran a mile under his hand. Lars brought with him a storm of new feelings. Thomas wasn't sure if he could handle much more of them! “Since your ready, let me take you to my parents.” Lars pulled Thomas's hand straight off his chest and into his hand. Pulling Thomas along, Lars open the door, calling out. “Mom, Father, I brought him!” 

Into the door was the waiting room. Not bad in size, it must have been impressive back in the day. Without much care taking into it's appearance of late, it became tattered like the rest of the manor. The boys in blue playing on the wallpaper, were faded and yellow on most of the wallpaper. The wood wainscotting, a fancy word Thomas discovered, for the woodcarving that went up have the wall. Were nicked and rubbed. The sight of the faded cravings always made Thomas feel a bit sad. 

“Thomas!” His name rolled in a happy lit off the tall women's tongue. Dressed neatly in a pink sun dress, she rushed over, long blond hair flowing behind her. Stopping only to smothered Thomas in a hug. Thomas once again was at a lost at what to do, was this a thing now? Thomas darted his eyes to Lars. Who motioned at him to hug her back. 

“Um, hello.” Thomas whispered through the blond veil of hair covering his eyes. He didn't feel comfortable hugging her like he did Lars. Unlike Lars's hug, hers felt soft, like the time Thomas stole a blanket right off the line. He couldn't if he wanted to anyway, because his arms were pinned firmly under her squishing grip. The faint smell of sweetness tugged at Thomas's nose, she smelled like the sun on a spring day. “Mrs. O'Sullivan.” Thomas finished his thought feeling embarrassed. 

“Sorry my boy!” A charming and deep voice spoke to Thomas. The voice was similar to Lars, but deeper. Thomas figured it must have been Lars's father. “We're huggers.” 

“Um, that's okay, but...” Thomas didn't mind, being hugged was a warm feeling, but Thomas wasn't used to it, and blonde hairs were making Thomas's nose itch. The last thing he wanted to do was sneeze into her hair! 

“Mom let him go before you make him even more uncomfortable!” Lars said, Thomas silently thanked Lars, for once again reading his mind. He was let go, inside his face was held, once again by two hands. 

“But he's so cute!” Mrs. O'Sullivan had eyes like her son, they danced between colours before settling on a happy blue. “I can't wait to take him home!” Thomas wasn't sure how he felt about being called cute, he was a boy after all. Seeing Mrs. O'Sullivan look happy kneeing on the nasty carpet in the waiting room. Thomas decided right than and there. If she wanted to call him cute, he wouldn't mind one bit. 

“One of the girls would be a much better choice. If your looking for cute, Madame.” Mrs. Row crooked coo broke the moment between Thomas and Lars's Mom. 

“I have already told you. We are here for Thomas!” Mrs. O'Sullivan turned with a flip of her hair, she went from holding Thomas's face, to standing in front of him. Lars came over to stand by Thomas. 

“She's going into mama bird mode.” Lars whispered to Thomas. “This women is asking for it.” 

“Mama bird?” Thomas whispered back, not entirely sure what Lars meant. 

“You'll see.” Lars motioned for him to be quite with a finger to his lips. Thomas took his cue and watched, all from behind Lars's Mom. 

“He's not normal.” Mr. Row spoke up from a old dust chair. His face twisted into disgust with his eyes looking towards Thomas. “We keep him out of the goodness of our hearts.” 

“Ngh,” Lars's snorted, looking equity, if not more disgusted than Mr. Row. 

“You mother had this.” Lars's father came over, the perfect picture of a gentleman. Thomas looked up at him. He colours were rather plain, all brown with pale skin. He carried himself with an easy grace. Thomas could picture him being one of the poets that the Old Man used to teach him about. His straight nose starring into the blank pages of a book, creating poems with a upright back and wooing hearts with his words. 

“Does your father write poetry?” Thomas couldn't resistant asking. Sparkling at the idea of one of his poets coming to life- right in front of him! “I don't think so?” Lars whispered back, his brows tugged together in confusion. Lars's father winked at Thomas. Making Thomas think that maybe he did. 

“I will not have your James, Brittany's or any other child!” Mrs. O'Sullivan said glaring down the Rows with her hands folded over her arms. 

“He is a demon child!” Mr. Row snarled, pointed a fat finger at Thomas, making him wince. He had heard the word all his life, but the O'Sullivan's had not and he didn't want them to either. It felt to nasty for such a nice family. “There I said it!” Mr. Row stood, and with a shake of his belly started to march forward. Right towards Thomas! “Look at his ears, their pointed, like the devils!” Thomas shrank into his shirt, if he could, he would disappear from this room. 

“You will not insult Thomas in front of me.” Lars said his voice becoming a dark and clouded storm of brogue and anger. Moving he slap the offending hand that was still out stretch. “He's better than a handful of your lot.” 

“You know what, maybe your not a good fit for Thomas.” Mrs. Row chimed in. “It's best he stays with us.” Thomas's stomach dropped to his toes, the faint idea of joining the O'Sullivan family dashing away with Mrs. Row's words. 

“We already did the necessary paperwork.” Mr. O'Sullivan spoke up. “This was simply suppose to be an explanation for Thomas, before we left.” Moving in front of his son, he continued. “I've think his had enough.” Mr. O'Sullivan eyes never left Mr. Row. Thomas could see the sweat poor off him. “You are ready to leave this place Thomas.” 

“Please.” Thomas said nodded his head. To be anywhere, somewhere other than here, was always a dream for Thomas. 

“Then let us be on our way.” Mrs. O'Sullivan spoke taking Thomas by the hand she started to leave. 

“We won't let you!” Mr Row snarled. “That demon deserves to stay locked up!” 

“It is only by out grace that he lives, and other's survive his presence!” Mrs. Row echoed her husbands feeling. She stood up and tried to walk over to Thomas. Both Lars and his mom stopped her. 

“Haven't you done enough!” Mrs. O'Sullivan snapped waving a hand to ward off Mrs. Row. “If you didn't want him adopted, why did you sign him off?” Mr. O'Sullivan asked a calm in the storm. 

“We signed off a child, not Thomas, we thought once you saw the little freak. You would come to your senses and pick one of the others!” Mr. Row pushed his sweaty chest into Mr. O'Sullivan. “Who knew that you would be fools.” 

“Devil practitioners.” Mrs. Row cried, pulling a sliver cross out of her shriveled bosom. Thomas winced, moving backwards and way from Mrs. Row. He had that thing pressed into his face, higher than he could count. 

“That's enough.” Mr. O'Sullivan said. “Merry take the boys.” Mr. O'Sullivan pulled out a long wooden stick from inside his vest. Thomas shook his head, how would a stick help here? 

“Lars hang onto Thomas.” Mrs. O'Sullivan pulled the pair towards her. At her words Lars tugged Thomas into his arms. 

“Maybe you should just go without me.” Thomas said feeling bad for this. It was only matter of time before the police were called, and they would side with the Rows. No matter what they did, the O'Sullivan's were like Thomas, they were outsiders. 

“Trust me. Father has this.” Lars smiled, his narrow blue-grey eyes looking into Thomas's directly, without a hint of wavering. 

“Okay.” Thomas's nodded trusted not just those eyes but his instincts that told him Lars's wasn't lying. 

“You might make you a little dizzy,” Mrs. O'Sullivan whispered. “Bare with it.” Her arms came around them. Thomas tense his body up, waiting for the hit, or whatever was about to happen. Thomas wanted to tun, but he said he would trust Lars, so he stayed. Though his whole body wanted to get away. 

“I fear not your evil witch!” Mrs. Row yelled at the three off them huddle at the floor, and Mr. Row shouted at Lars's father. 

“You think I'm afraid of your stick, demon!” Mr. Row voice turned hoarse at the end. Thomas didn't get to see what happen next. The room turned into a shimmering wave. Thomas dug his hands into Lars's scarf, his heart beat went wild, and just as the room started to spin. They disappeared from the room. The last thing Thomas heard of the familiar squawk of Mrs. Row's scream.


	4. Magic

“Well that was dramatic.” Mrs. O'Sullivan stood up her back to a grand fireplace, decorated with flying ravens. Thomas blink once, twice to confirm but the raven were flying across the mantel. The marvel of seeing the wood grain move and breath with the bird amazed Thomas. Sitting in trees that made the sides. Taking notice of Thomas staring eyes, one turned and winked at him. 

“Your-your ravens are winking.” Thomas gaped in wonder. Could wood always do that? No, then perhaps the O'Sullivan's were demons like the Rows claimed. If they were... Thomas looked at the smiling women, and colourful boy who had saved him. He wouldn't care. 

“They do that.” Mrs. O'Sullivan waved that off. Lars groaned and rolled his eyes. 

“You know Mother.” Lars came over and pulled Thomas away from the fireplace. To the purple and cherry wood settee that was before it. Pushing Thomas by the shoulders, he got him to sit. Thomas looked at the wood of the settee but was a bit sad not to see any moving parts. “I doubt Thomas has seen that sort of thing before.” Lars sat beside Thomas. Patting his knee, he got Thomas's attention. “I must say Thomas you're taking this rather well.” 

Thomas shrugged. I mean teleportation to another room? A bit shocking. Thomas couldn't say it was normal by any means, but neither was pointing a stick at people. Calling people muggles and Thomas still hadn't forgotten about that. Having a fireplace where the carvings moved, it was all strange. Peeking around Mrs. O'Sullivan he could see a few ravens now perched on the top of the mantle. Strutting around while he looked on. It was more fascinating than scary. 

“Oh, right!” Mrs. O'Sullivan tapped her fist into an open hand. “I tend to forget the small details.” Mrs. O'Sullivan grabbed a yellowed envelope from behind one of the birds. “This will straighten things right up.” She passed Thomas the letter. Taking in with gentle hands, Thomas looked at the front of his first ever piece of mail. 

“That's how you're going to explain it?” Lars slapped his forward with his palm. “I should have waited for Father.” Lars grumbled beside him. 

“The Nest?” Thomas asked out loud. Wondering where that was after reading the emerald green letters. That were addressed Mr. T. Cloverleigh, Second Floor- Joint Room, The Nest. 

“He hasn't even opened it yet, and you've already confused him.” Lars sighed and slumped to his corner of the settee. 

“Oh hush.” Mrs. O'Sullivan knelt in front of Thomas. Her hands rubbed his knees. “This is the Nest. This is our home.” Thomas nodded at those stormy eyes. Not ready to believe that this nice place was his home. That despite only seeing one room, it was already way nicer than the orphanage. 

“Open it and I'll answer any questions.” Mrs. O'Sullivan folded her legs down, getting more comfortable on the floor. Thomas looked at the floor. The carpet looked nice and soft, but shouldn't she be on the seat and him on the floor? 

“Mother likes sitting on the floor.” Lars spoke up. Leaning back, comfortable in his slouched position. 

“It's true!” Mrs. O'Sullivan nodded and clapped her hands together. “Traditional seating is so restricting!” Thomas nodded, many chairs back were hard and uncomfortable. Maybe the floor is better. Thomas looked at the cushy cream rug Mrs. O'Sullivan sat on. It did look comfy. 

“Can-can I sit with you?” Thomas stuttered out, wanting to try it but not wanting to seem needy or anything. 

“The more, the merrier!” Mrs. O'Sullivan scooted back in her skirt and Thomas slid of the settee and sat on the floor. It was better! “Better?” Thomas nodded it was much softer than the settee, and he could stretch his legs out too. 

“You've gone and ruined him mother.” Lars laughed, flipping his legs onto the settee to stretch out. “More room for me.” Lars grinned. Thomas shook his head, and he felt a rare smile form on his lips. Everyone was so happy here. 

“Now open it, open it!” Mrs. O'Sullivan bounced up and down. Thomas ripped open the red seal back as fast as he could. Caught up in Mrs. O'Sullivan's eager nature. Pulling out a letter, he read: 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY 

~ 

Headmaster: Derrick Longbottom 

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., International Confed. Of Wizards) 

Dear Mr. Cloverleigh, 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. 

Yours sincerely, 

Francis Walker 

Thomas read it not once, but twice. Then folded the paper on his lap, and closed his eyes with a sigh. A witch was much better than a demon. Although he made his choice to follow the O'Sullivan even if they did turn out to be demons. It was a relief that he, they, weren't. 

“Thomas are you okay.” Mrs. O'Sullivan's soft brogue made him open his eyes. 

“I'm not a demon.” Thomas felt his eyes getting watery. He knew, he knew he wasn't a demon, but still after being called one for so long...he would be a liar if he didn't have his doubts. 

“Never!” Mrs. O'Sullivan grabbed his hands and pulled them to her chest. Holding them so tight that Thomas could feel her nails trembling. “You are the son of my best friend — a right brilliant witch!” Her eye went pale grey with her own tears, chocking on her words. She snuffled. “I should make them mark the day they dare convince you otherwise. That horrid couple!” 

“What I miss?” Mr. O'Sullivan appeared with a pop, making Thomas jump. 

“Thomas relieved his not a demon.” Lars said pulling himself up to sit upright. “I hope you gave that couple what was coming to them.” Lars came to lay a hand on Thomas's shoulder. 

“I fixed them up. No worries.” Mr. O'Sullivan scowled. “Nasty couple shouldn't have any children.” Continuing, he spoke to Thomas “Your a mixed-breed wizard, Thomas.” “Mix-breed?” Thomas asked blinking away his tears. Mrs. O'Sullivan let him go to wipe away her own tears. 

“Wizard?” He wasn't a witch? Thomas looked around confused. 

“A male witch.” Mr. O'Sullivan rubbed his wife's shoulders while she leaned against him. “Didn't you two tell him?” Mr. O'Sullivan looked down at his wife. She smiled and turned her eyes away and a whistle. 

“She just handed him the letter.” Lars said. Thomas watched him snitch on his own mother with wide eyes. 

“The cart before the dragon again?” Mr. O'Sullivan shook his head with a smile. Looking up Mr. O'Sullivan looked at Thomas with a soft smile. One Thomas had seen the girl use when they saw a particular cute animal. “To say it straight. You have three parents” 

“Three?” Thomas asked with a blinked. Now he didn't know much, Thomas wouldn't deny that, but he knew it took two to make three. Not three to make four. The math was off for sure. 

“Your parents were a special case.” Mrs. O'Sullivan added. Not making things any clearer. 

“Oh, for nest’s sake's!” Lars chimed in. “Your father was a vampire Thomas, he had two mates! One was a witch and the other a siren.” Thomas turned his head with a snap. His mind spinning with so many questions he didn't know where to even begin to think! “Things get dicey from there, on who did what, to get you.” Lars slapped his shoulder. “All that really matters is that you're here!” 

“Well said Lars.” Mr. O'Sullivan nodded. “I don't know much about them. I was only friends with Terra.” Mrs. O'Sullivan shook her head. “It was a whirlwind courtship.” Mrs. O'Sullivan added. “I do have pictures! You look like your father! Pointy ears and all.” Mrs. O'Sullivan smiled big, and Thomas reached beneath his hair to touch his ears. “Would you like to see them now?” Noticing Thomas's movement. 

“Not now.” Thomas shook his head. He wanted to see them, of course he wanted to! Not now though, he needed time to think. Vampires, witched, wizards, parents it was all too much to take in at once! 

“Are you sure that I am one?” Thomas asked. If he had all this magic, because surly vampires and sirens had something too. Of that Thomas was sure. Why is it that he could never get the kids or the Rows to stop bullying him? “A wizard?” Thomas added the others in for good measure. “Vampire, siren thing.” 

“Think on it Thomas.” Lars said. “I'm sure you've done something.” 

“With your hair, maybe? I saw the other boys cuts.” Mr. O'Sullivan said. 

“I can't image what else they tried to do.” Mrs. O'Sullivan muttered. Thomas thought back. To not only his hair, but his ears, and didn't most of the kids avoid the attic crawl space he called home. Like they were afraid of it even though Thomas did nothing. 

“Maybe.” Thomas whispered daring to believe. 

“No maybe's Thomas. Magic.” Lars said. “Do you want to come to our room?” Lars asked while moving to stand up. “I imagine you're done.” Thomas nodded wearily. His head felt stuffed, he didn't sleep, but he did rest. When his head got to full — like now. Thomas paused and looked at the O'Sullivan's. 

“Thank you for rescuing me.” He said, life would have only gotten rougher for Thomas. With the Old Man gone, he had lost his only escape. 

“Can I look at those pictures tomorrow?” He asked Mrs. O'Sullivan. 

“Of course! I'll get them ready.” Mrs. O'Sullivan stood with the help of her husband. Giving Lars, and Thomas a quick hug. 

“Rest well boys.” Mr. O'Sullivan joined in on the hugs. “Told you we're huggers.” Mr. O'Sullivan smiled. Not minding Thomas acted a bit stiff. “You'll get used to it.” On weary legs he followed behind Lars. Not taking in the house one bit, his mind on what he had learned and the past. Thomas gripped his heart shaped locket, the Celtic knot digging into his hand. He swore he heard the brogue much thicker than the O'Sullivan's telling him that he would do great.


	5. Breakfast

Thomas woke up with the grey light of dawn peaking at him through a large round window. Blinking he sat up, blankets he didn't remember crawling under tumbled around him. Looking around he rubbed his eyes. In front of the window was a navy couch that had no back and only one arm. Beside it a small round table with a pitcher on it. Thomas didn't see the old dusty attic and it's boxes of mice and mold, but a clean spaces room. 

One large dark bookcase took up the one whole side of the room. The other wall had three doors, Thomas hoped one of them was a bathroom. A small moan brought Thomas attention to his side. Lars laid sprawled on his back, mouth open and his hair a mess. Thomas smiled at the sight. 

It wasn't a dream. He was really here. Sliding out of the bed Thomas's bare feet sunk into a soft grey rug. Padding across the floor Thomas tried his hand at finding the bathroom. The first door, closet to the window opened the largest closet Thomas had ever seen. It was a rainbow of colour hanging from sliver polls and scarfs hanging in thin air. 

“Magic,” Thomas smiled in wonder. Closing the door with a click he walked a few steps he went to the next door. White shimmered off the floors when the lights flickered to life on their own. Crystals sparkled in the air above Thomas head. Not a string of metal piece kept them floating. They stayed a float all on their own.

A clear round cup that was bigger than the orphanages old bathroom, took up most of the space. Double sinks in a grey wood and a toilet was the only thing left in the room. Walking in Thomas saw there was another door on the opposite side. Thomas ignores that to take care of his morning business. 

“Morning Thomas.” Lars greeted him when he came back into the room. 

“Morning,” Thomas said, unsure what else to say he chose to look around the room some more. 

“Any questions about yesterday?” Lars crawled out of bed, dragging the blankets off with him. 

“I'm a vampire.” Thomas said, confirming and not questing this fact. Watching the blankets fix themselves back on the bed. 

“Yes, You've awakened yet.” Lars yawned and stretched around his way around the bed. 

“Awakened?” Thomas asked watching the blanket shaking until it laid perfect flat edge on the bed. The pillows themselves fluffed out and lined up at the top of the bed. 

“When a vampire develops his powers, and a need for blood.” Lars disappeared into the closet that he glance at before. Curious Thomas followed behind. “You have siren, and wizard blood too, so puberty should be fun for you.” Clothes came flying around Lars. Thomas watched with an open mouth. Lars simple raised his arms, and stepped into the swirling mass. When everything settled he came out wearing a red robe, eggplant pants and cobalt sweater. 

“I'm fine for now then?” Thomas asked, not sure on how he felt about drinking blood. It sounded far from sanitary. Lard nodded, letting Thomas sighed in relieve. Before an orange scarf from the air and placing itself around Lars's shoulder with a swirl. 

“You can ask Father if you like?” Lars offered. Thomas shook his head, he felt a calm air around him. Not even a glimmer of that awful feeling Thomas got in his chest when someone lied around him. 

“I'm fine for now.” Thomas didn't need more information right now. What would he do with it? He preferred to take one day at a time. “Um, are my clothes okay?” Seeing Lars in new clothes, Thomas felt a bit shabby in his. 

“You want to change into something of mine?” Lars looked around his closet. “You're a bit shorter than me, but I have some clothes from last year.” Thomas watched wooden boxes slid from the top and come down. 

“What's your favourite colour?” Lars asked, his eyes on the many boxes coming down slowing in the air. 

“Green.” Thomas said in a whisper watching in awe while Lars helped him get him a new outfit. With a nod of his head, Lars clapped his hands together and the box with a green lid came to a stop by their feet. Pulling out an emerald green robe Lars shook it out. “Are this wizard clothes?” 

“All wizard where robes. Some of us are more colourful than others.” Lars laughed. “Don't worry as you can see we wear pants as well.” Lars tossed him put the robe aside and tossed him pair of black pants and a long black dress shirt. Thomas changed, there is no such thing as privacy at the orphanage. Turning Thomas into a fast dresser. 

“Not bad.” Lars nodded walking around Thomas. “Mother bought that for me years ago, but it wasn't colourful enough for me.” Thomas spun around liking green robe swirl around his ankles while he turned. It looked different from the boy he was yesterday, and he felt different too. He felt happier. 

“Let's get breakfast. I'm sure Mother has a spread.” Thomas perked up. Seeing the wonders of Lars's room. Thomas was eager to see the dinning room. Following Lars down the stairs he smelled the rich smell of bacon and the sizzle of eggs reached his ears. Down a dark wood hallway. Thomas followed behind Lars his eyes darting everywhere and taking in everything. The house looked normal so far, right down the pictures lining the walls. It wasn't until he saw the one of Lars's father and mother that Thomas stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Their dancing!” Thomas shouted with a point. At the end of his finger the couple swung around without a care. Their eyes on each other without a care in the world. 

“It was taking last year.” Lars stopped and smiled. “My parents never left the honeymoon stage.” 

“Is the picture moving...normal?” Thomas paused and asked. Thinking that must be it at Lars's lack of reaction. 

“Paintings will leave their frame's time from time too.” Lars came over and stood beside Thomas. “If any of them bother you. I'll ask Mother to take them down.” Lars patted Thomas's shoulder. 

“Can they?” Thomas asked shoulders relaxing under Lars's hand “Mess with you?” Thomas nodded at Lars's question. Getting a nod in return. 

“My uncle for one. His portrait is in the library, best to avoid him — he had a gutter mouth.” Thomas nodded again, avoiding the library was easy — he didn't even know where it was! “Let's get some breakfast.” 

“Morning Father!” Lars said cheerfully when they entered the dinning room. Thomas's eyes beat a quick path around the room. Gold flowers swayed on the walls dark red paper. Light wood floor matched the twisting legs of the round table. Lars's father put down a heavy leather book onto the table. Greeting them with a smile. 

“Morning boys.” Mr. O'Sullivan narrowed his eyes at Thomas. “Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine Mr. O'Sullivan.” Thomas gave a quick nod. He felt great. Being here took the weight of what if's of Thomas's shoulders. What if he couldn't avoid the Rows, the other kids, where could he hide out now — with the Old Man gone? Those issues and many more. Were gone. Poof. Like magic. 

“Truly.” Thomas nodded trying to make him believe him. When all he got was a stern look, Thomas opened up a bit. “I can't lie.” 

“Can't?” Mr. O'Sullivan said his brows puckering together. Thomas nodded. 

“That's right.” Thomas felt safer than he ever had, and he really wanted to make things work here. Revealing the small secret he kept felt like a good choice to Thomas. 

“Ever?” Lars pushed Thomas around until he sat he a chair Lars's pulled out for him. Thomas went along with it as Lars pushed him in. 

“Never.” Thomas nodded. He couldn't even lie to himself. For a while he thought if he went along with what the Rows wanted. He would get some peace, but every time he tried. Thomas felt paralyzed. Breathing, thoughts, his body all shut down. It was frightening. Thomas vowed that after a few tries he wouldn't do it anymore. 

“Is this a vampire trait?” Lars turned and ask his father. His father rubbed the bridge of his nose with a shrug. 

“Don't tell anyone about this Thomas.” Mr. O'Sullivan said leaning forward he took his hand, rubbing them with great care. “I am happy that you trust us to say this, but I'm afraid what others might do.” Thomas frowned. He wasn't sure what a person could do with this knowledge, but he wasn't stupid. 

“Your the first two I ever told.” Thomas pulled his hands free, “I'm not a people person?” Thomas tilted his head, unsure how to tell him what he meant. 

“Thomas isn't a fool Father.” Sitting him into the chair beside him. “Right Thomas?” Lars winked at him. 

“Wouldn't survive in that house otherwise.” Thomas nodded, that was it. He smiled at Lars, happy to have someone who seem to understand him so well. 

“Breakfast sirs.” A strange creature dress in pink appeared in front of the Thomas. Placing several trays of food on the table with a snap of its fingers. It was about two feet tall, wearing a robe and looking very much like a weird, naked upright cat. 

“!” Thomas slammed back into his chair, he would have fell clear over if Mr. O' Sullivan hadn't grabbed the chair arm. 

“It's our house elf — Berry.” Mr. O'Sullivan reassured. 

“Berry is a nice elf. Mr. Thomas.” She nodded her large ears wiggling in the air. Thomas blinked once, then twice. 

“Breath.” Lars voice rolled over him. Thomas took a deep breath to calm himself. 

“Is Berry scary?” Her voice shook and her large blue eyes — the size of saucers, brimmed with tears. Thomas shook his head. 

“You appeared out of nowhere.” Thomas calmed down, feeling a bit bad for making it, Berry cry. Mr. O'Sullivan patted his arm and settled back into his chair. 

“I'll warn you next time. Berry will.” Her tears gone. She, Thomas assumed it was she, smiled a large and wiggly grin. “I'll be getting more food now.” Thomas nodded. 

“What's a house elf?” Thomas asked when she left. 

“She helps take care of the house.” Mr. O' Sullivan explained. “We pay her in clothes.” He added. Thomas nodded like he understood. 

“She also stops Mother from burning down the kitchen.” Lars added, grabbing a tray of towering jam dripping pastries. 

“I heard that young man!” Mrs. O' Sullivan came in carrying a pitcher of juice in her hand. Her clothes matching Berry's. 

“I haven't burned down the kitchen — lately.” Placing the pitcher down. She tucked herself in beside her husband. 

“Help yourself Thomas.” Mrs. O' Sullivan said waving to the dishes covering the large round table. 

“Try this!” Berry raise a small tray with a red shinning fruit on it. Picking it up the small fruit reminded Thomas of a tomato, but much smaller. Under Berry watchful gaze he popped the fruit into his mouth. Biting down his mouth exploded with juice. Coating his mouth and running down his throat. It had the rich, tender flesh of near raw meat and tasted as juicy. Thomas eyes watered. It was the tastiest thing he ever eaten in his life! 

“Can I have another?” Thomas ask Berry, she offered him another one of her wiggly smiles. 

“Have them all!” Berry place the small tray in front of him. 

“Thank you.” Thomas smiled at her and helped himself to another. Berry blushed and disappeared out of sight. 

“Berry likes you.” Mr. O' Sullivan laughed adding some bacon to his own plate. “And Thomas likes the Blood Fruit.” Lars laughed while Thomas stuffed his face. The name of the fruit didn't stop him one bit. 

“It was Berry's idea.” Mrs. O' Sullivan smiled, pouring herself and Lars a cup of juice. “When she heard Thomas was coming. The fruits were the first thing she thought of!” 

“Why would she?” Thomas wondered. Even if she knew he was coming, why go out of her way? For him? 

“One. She likes guest, and we rarely have any.” Mrs. O'Sullivan said taking a drink of her juice. 

“Two. Your family now, and Berry takes very good care of her family. Has for decades.” Mr. O'Sullivan added. 

“Three. She has a bit of a crush on you.” Lars wiggled his eyebrows, making Thomas blush not used to the friendly teasing. 

“Don't mess with Thomas!” Mrs. O'Sullivan dropped some bacon on Lars's plate. “And eat more than those pastries.” 

“Here Thomas this is for you.” Mr. O'Sullivan passed Thomas the leather bound book. Thomas had to take it with two hands to make sure he didn't drop it. Moving the tray he opened it up. It was an album with more moving photographs, but these looked familiar and very strange. 

“Is this my-my father?” Thomas asked with a stutter. His hands shaking as he touched the edge of the large picture on the first page. A man, a tall man. Wearing all black, from his shirt, and vest to the shinny tops of his shoes. His short black hair, revealed pale pointed ears. Watching the man wink on the page. Thomas instinctively reached up to his own ears. Before looking at a face that mirrored his own, but looked more mature. Thomas could tell at one glance what he would like in the future. It was eerie, and made Thomas shiver. 

“Eric Blood.” Mr. O'Sullivan said wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Master, and revolutionary leader.” 

“Master?” Thomas couldn't even begin to guess at the second word. 

“He was strong enough to make his own heart beat, and to lead others.” Mrs. O'Sullivan added. Thomas frowned, didn't everyone make their own heart beat? 

“Some vampire can't control themselves.” Lars scooted his chair closer to Thomas. “Master vampires can, and help others. They attract people who are weaker, because they know they'll be safe under him.” 

“There is more to it than that, but let's keep it simple.” Thomas watched Mr. O' Sullivan give Thomas a look. It was a look he had seen before. Old Man had it, when he could tell Thomas more but wouldn't share. Thomas found it was better not to dig for answers after that look. It only made adults want to hide the answers deeper. “I don't want to overwhelm you.” Mr. O'Sullivan gave Thomas a smile. “You can ask more later. There is no rush.” 

“He wanted vampires to live in harmony beside witches.” Mrs. O'Sullivan said waving her hand in the air. “He fought to keep vampire out of the dark corner of the magical world, and bring them into the light.” 

“Is that why he's gone?” Thomas turned his eyes to Mrs. O' Sullivan. Her hands drop the table and her smile turned sad, but Thomas wanted to know, and ignored the pain he felt for asking. 

“Yes.” Lars rubbed Thomas leg under the table. 

“Not everyone agreed with your father. Vampires and witches alike.” Mr. O' Sullivan leaned over and turned the page for Thomas to see two smiling women with their hands entwined. 

“Eric, your father — loved not only a witch but a siren.” The short curly haired women giggled and whispered into the ear of the tall slender blonde. Her eyes a brilliant green that shimmered like the blue, and purple scales trailed up the sides of her face. 

“He wanted a world for them — and you.” Mrs. O' Sullivan said brushing off some crumbs on the table. “She, Terra wanted that too.” 

“One day they disappeared.” Mr. O' Sullivan said, Thomas's hands shook so hard. He hid them under the table. Afraid of breaking something resting on top. Lars grasped his hand, letting Thomas cling to his fingers. 

“Are they still alive?” Thomas swallowed his breath. He had always assumed they were dead, but maybe... 

“Eric and Terra are still alive.” Mrs. O'Sullivan said with a firm tone. Tapping his knuckles on the table. “We know that because your necklace is still in one piece.” 

“My locket.” Thomas grabbed it through the shirt with his free hand. “How do you know she made it?” 

“I helped her pick it out.” Mrs. O' Sullivan smiled but it was weak and her eyes watery. “It was a custom make, and I can feel her magic on it. Felt it the moment I entered the orphanage.” She sniveled as she spoke, but Thomas understood, that once again, magic was the answer. 

“And a witches magic dies with her. She helped make your locket Thomas. That's how my parents know they're still alive.” Lars took over, giving his mother a moment to collect herself. Squeezing their interlocked hands, Lars gave him smile, a genuine smile. Thomas looked into Lars's eyes, and saw not sadness, but peace. The truth baring down on him, but somehow looking into those blue-grey eyes gave him strength. Taking a deep breath Thomas asked his next question. 

“What happen to them.” Thomas asked, turning away from Lars to his parents. 

“We only know that Veronica-Veronica.” Mrs. O'Sullivan stumbled her words her lips trembling. Thomas picked up where she left off. 

“She's dead.” Thomas said, he knew when they only mentioned two of them that the third, had to have died. She nodded, bringing a napkin to her eyes. 

“She returned to the seas, but not before using her magic to let them escape.” Mr. O' Sullivan said, standing he went over to his wife, moving the chair to wipe her into a hug. 

“That's when they hid you, and why my parents couldn't fin you until now.” Lars said, mimicking his father he pulled Thomas into a hug. “You'll meet them one day.” Lars whispered into his ear. “I promise.” Thomas leaned his head into Lars's shoulder. He knew he should be more upset, but it felt so distant from him. He was sad that the women in the picture died. It was sad when anyone left, but it wasn't like the Old Man. He didn't know these people personally, but... 

“One day.” Thomas whispered into Lars's shoulder. One day he would meet them, until then. He would stick to dealing with one day at a time. There was no need to rush, coming to that idea made Thomas feel a lot better. Good enough to let Lars's hand go. 

“I'm okay.” Thomas said, pulling out of the hug. “Are you sure?” Lars said still holding him by the shoulders. Thomas nodded. 

“One day is one day, but for now...” Thomas looked to Lars's parents. Mrs. O' Sullivan had taking to sitting on her husbands lap. “I have you guys...right?” Thomas's look at the   
O' Sullivan's hoping he was right, and not making a big fool of himself. 

“Of course!” Mrs. O' Sullivan perked up, her husband gave a nod. 

“Not only now Thomas, but always.” Lars hugged him again, and Thomas returned it, he was getting used to all these hugs. Soon he felt, he wouldn't be able to do without them. 

“After breakfast. I thought we would go to Diagon Alley.” Mr. O'Sullivan snatched a pastry from around his wife. She looked like she had no intentions of moving from her spot and took a piece for herself. 

“Diagon Alley?” Thomas asked taking a drink of the juice Lars pour for him. Which was not only calming, but the best orange juice he ever had. 

“It's the place where all wizards shop.” Lars said topping of Thomas's juice, before digging into his own meal. 

“Even if Lars's old clothes are cute on you. You need more.” Mrs. O' Sullivan said biting down on her toast. 

“We confirmed your entrance, and we need to get your school supplies.” Mr. O' Sullivan added jam falling out of his pastry. 

“Are we going to poof there?” Thomas asked finishing off his last berry. Everyone around the table burst out laughing. “What?” Thomas looked around, wondering what was so funny. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He saw nothing come off. 

“Yes,” Mr. O'Sullivan smiled knocking his knuckles on the table. “We'll be poofing.” 

“Only after breakfast.” Mrs. O' Sullivan let out a happy sigh, with a shake of her head. No one said anything else. Even Berry was quiet when she placed another tray of fruits down on the table. Everyone seemed lost in their thoughts. Thomas looked at the open book, and closed it with one hand. One day he would look through it again, but for now. He enjoyed the world he had only discovered yesterday. One of magic, and where people cared about you, and the last thing. Meant more to Thomas than all the magic in the world.


	6. Shopping

“Poofing sure is convenient.” Thomas mummer-ed still clinging to Mr. O' Sullivan's arm. Thomas tried to watch a video once, when the Rows had taking the other children out. He couldn't watch it in the end because he hit the wrong button. Making the show go by really fast, and that was what it felt like to him. That he had watched the world speed by and came to the end without knowing how it began. 

“Yes it is.” Mr. O'Sullivan smiled and ruffled Thomas's head. Looking around they looked like they were in an ordinary brick alley. Thomas felt a little disappointed, but perhaps he couldn't see the stores yet. Maybe there was some magic spell to reveal them? Thomas only had to wait, and that was something he was good at. 

“You know it's not called poofing.” Lars straightened his robe and explained. 

“No don't tell him!” Mrs. O' Sullivan placed a hand over Lars's mouth. “It's cuter this way.” Lars's rolled his eyes. 

“He'll learn it in school.” Mr. O'Sullivan reminded her. 

“Just for today.” Mrs. O'Sullivan placed her hand in front of her face, thumb facing out, like Lars's had done when Thomas first met him. In turn, it freed Lars's mouth. 

“I'll tell you later.” Lars rolled his eyes, and Mr. O' Sullivan laughed. Thomas shook his head. Mrs. O' Sullivan was a very happy lady. Thomas hadn't met anyone like her before. 

“Clothes first!” Mrs. O' Sullivan raised her hand up in the air sounded very happy about it. 

“The cauldron shop is closer.” Lars said shaking his head. 

“He's right.” Mr. O' Sullivan went to stand beside Lars. The pair looked like there were teaming up. “You should go ahead and pick out a few things.” Mr. O' Sullivan smiled, waving his wife forward. 

“We'll pick up the cauldron's and meet you there.” Lars smiled too echoing Mr. O' Sullivan's tone. They sounded very nice, but Thomas felt like they were trying to avoid the store, but why? 

“Then Thomas should come with me they'll need measurements.” Mrs. O'Sullivan's eyes knitted together in thought. 

“Thomas has never been in a cauldron store Mother.” Lars spoke up, looking at his father. 

“Right Lars. We should take him through it, a teaching aide.” Mr. O'Sullivan winked at Lars. Thomas watched this going on back and forth. Thomas hadn't been in a clothing store before, let alone a cauldron store. Both sounded interesting, but he wasn't sure what was going on yet. Thomas decided to keep his opinion to himself. 

“True.” Mrs. O' Sullivan nodded in agreement. “I'll meet you boys there. Then I'll get them to measure Thomas.” Mrs. O' Sullivan turned and headed up the alley without them. Thomas joined the other in waving her off. 

“Dodged it.” Lars said holding his hand to his chest with a sigh. 

“Dodged what?” Thomas asked looking at how the relieved by the pair look. He wondered what horror lied in a magic clothing store. Maybe little monsters stitched the clothes together! Thomas pictured horrid little creatures using their claws to stitch robes with a shiver. 

“I love Merry dearly, but I rather deal with a wild dragon than go clothing shop with her.” Mr. O' Sullivan said with a smile, and a distant look in his eye. 

“Merry is my Mother by the way.” Lars explained looking at Thomas. “Liam is my Father.” Lars pointed at his father. 

“That reminds me.” Mr. O' Sullivan turning to Thomas. “If it doesn't bother you. Please call me uncle or Liam.” Thomas blinked in surprise. “Mr. O' Sullivan is my father. “ Winking at Thomas, he said the next in a whisper. “I'm just not old enough to be him- yet.” 

“Okay.” Thomas nodded, pausing before adding. “Uncle Liam?” He asked in a question. 

“Perfect.” Mr. O' Sullivan smiled, patting his chest. “I have the list. Shall we get to it?” 

“Great!” Lars turned to Thomas. “You're going to love this.” Lars pulled Thomas by the end leading them to the top of the alley where Mrs. O' Sullivan disappeared too. There a whole new world opened up to Thomas. “Welcome to Diagon Alley Thomas!” Lars said opening his arms with a flair. 

“Bloody hell.” Thomas cursed under his breath. Beyond the shadows of the brick entrance was rows of shops. The first was a cauldron shop, big black pots on little feet on the stack on top of one another. Dozens of people were about! All wearing robes, none as colourful as Lars's, but they were amazing all the same. Purples, black and greens with all sort of fancy pointed hats. We're darting to and fro. 

“Don't swear Thomas.” Thomas's new uncle tapped him on his head. 

“Sorry.” Thomas said with a grimace. Uncle Liam smiled. 

“I understand the need though.” Uncle Liam pulled out a list from the pocket from his inside his robe. “Pewter cauldrons are first.” 

“What are cauldron's for?” Thomas asked quick on the heels of Lars's who was in turn following his father into the store. 

“It's for mixing potions.” Lars's answered keeping the door open for Thomas. “You can make all sorts of things happen with the right potion.” 

“What kind of things?” Thomas asked curious. 

“You a brew luck, cure aliments, anything really.” Lars shrugged his shoulders. “If you have the right ingredients.” 

“Like mixing scotch with milk? To make a new drink?” Thomas asked, he made a few for the bar patrons. It was something he was familiar with, and he liked the idea of having some knowledge about this wizarding world he was stepping into. 

“Yes, but why would you know about something like that?” Uncle Lars stopped and looked at Thomas. He froze under his gaze. If he told him, he knew he would get in trouble. Thomas was well aware that minors weren't supposed to be in the bar. Let alone serve the drinks. Stuck between being in trouble and a lie. Thomas couldn't move. 

“Move aside!” A woman blunder through them, Lars pulled Thomas to the side. Stopping him from getting nailed with a large gold cauldron the women was carrying. 

“Your not in trouble Thomas.” Lars said patting his shoulder. 

“Did you drink any of what you mixed?” Uncle Liam gave him a narrow eyed look. Thomas shook his head. “Words Thomas.” 

“No. Old Man wouldn't let me if I wanted too.” Thomas added on fast, after realizing he may be misunderstood. “I didn't want to.” 

“Good.” Uncle Liam nodded, “Pewters are in the back.” Trailing after him. Lars whispered to him. 

“Whose Old Man?” Lars raised a brow. Thomas shrugged, how could he explain him? 

“He was a nice guy. He helped me out.” Thomas whispered back. 

“He taught you how to mix drinks?” Lars one eyebrow went even further up his forehead. 

“He said it would be a trade that would help me later.” Thomas shrugged again. Old Man always helped Thomas out, but he wasn't much for explaining things out. Life lessons from him were short, and with as little explanation. Leaving Thomas to figure things out on his own. 

“I guess that could work, but why didn't I see him?” Lars turned away tapping his mouth with his finger. 

“He died before you guys came.” Thomas said, wondering why Lars thought he would have seen Old Man. 

“Boys come over and pick a cauldron!” Uncle Liam called over his shoulder. Lars was quick to pick out a simple black one. Thomas loved one with clawed feet, and after seeing it was pewter. Uncle Liam got it for him. 

“Thank you.” Thomas said carrying the heavy cauldron out the store. 

“No need for thanks.” Uncle Liam tapped his ring on the cauldron, and it vanished from Thomas's arms. 

“Brilliant.” Thomas whispered. Lars laughed, and held his cauldron up for his father to tap too. 

“It's one of Father's creations.” Lars said standing tall with pride. 

“Got the idea from the cultivation rings in Asia.” Uncle Liam ruffled Lars's head. “Going to be our new bestseller this fall.” 

“Best seller?” Thomas repeated, “Do you own a store?” Thomas looked around, wondering if it was one of the ones here. 

“Father runs a magical artifact company.” Lars said, which didn't explain much to Thomas. 

“I create magic items and sell them to stores.” Uncle Liam cleared things up. 

“Sounds amazing.” Thomas said in awe of him. Creating things and with magic no less. How could it not be amazing. 

“I think it's amazing too Thomas.” Uncle Liam pushed them to the shop across the way. The sign read Apothecary in gold script. 

“Now to our next stop.” There they both Lars and Thomas got scales and some glass looking vials. Thomas was pulled away from the shelf with Dragon livers. Lars was disgusted but Thomas thought it smelled great. 

“Potter 300. Mom can I get one?” A mother pulled a small boy away from a store window. 

“Maybe when your closer to going to school.” She answered vaguely. Thomas looked to the window and saw a black broom with a large bushy tail. That looked like someone slicked it back with hair grease. It had a solid gold wrap between the handle and the bristles. It was too fancy to be for sweeping, and no kid would want a broom; unless... it wasn't just a broom. 

“What are the broom's for?” Thomas asked, then and idea clicked in his head. “Do you ride them?” Thomas looked to Lars, who gave him two thumbs up. 

“First years aren't allowed their own brooms.” Uncle Liam said, “You can try ridding mine when we get home.” Thomas smiled and nodded. Not at the offer, but because of what he said. When we get home. We. We was a new and big thing to Thomas, and it was a word that he liked very much. 

“It's not that hard-” Lars stopped and turned pale. Thomas who was walking right beside him notice right away. 

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked being out talked by some hooting a screeching to their side. Tomas turned seeing dozens of birds. All owls. Of all sizes, hotting and screeching in the oddly shaped cages. Thomas was to got up in this of the street to notice the noisy things beforehand. Turning back to Lars, he saw the colour drop a few shades. 

“Is it the owls?” Thomas recognized the signs, he felt the dame way towards frogs. Nasty things. Thomas shivered just thinking about them. “Uncle Liam!” Thomas turned but Uncle Liam was already on top of it. He took Lars by the hand. 

“Keep up Thomas.” He said. Thomas was fast behind him, his eyes on Lars while they darted past the owl filled store, and not stopping until they rushed into another store, about two away from the birds. Only when they were inside did Lars's colour start to return. 

“I hate those things.” Lars took in a deep breath. 

“I won't let them hurt you Lars.” Thomas said, trying to reassure him. He may not have magic yet, but who needed magic to scare of some birds. Thomas had scared of a few pigeons in his time, and really what was the difference? 

“Thanks.” Lars said with a wobbly smile. 

“The birds got you too.” Coming down a set of stairs was Mrs. O' Sullivan shaking her head, but not looking concerned. “I forgot they had those things there. Gave me a fright!” 

“Mrs-” Thomas stopped remembering that he now called Lars's father uncle. “Aunt Merry, do you not like owls either?” In a whirl of pink and flora perfume Thomas got swept up in a hug. 

“You called me Aunt!” Thomas got spun in a circle by her happiness, making the room spin like a top before Thomas eyes. 

“My wife and son don't care for owls.” Uncle Liam said pulling Thomas free of her grasp. Dizzy he sat down beside Lars. “Shame they're great messenger birds.” 

“Our crows work fine.” Aunt Merry stomped her foot. “Time to get measured!” Thomas was pulled back to his feet faster than he sat. He found himself standing on a round platform while a self moving measurement tape danced around him, measuring him for what...only Aunt Merry knew. 

“Your here for school clothes too?” A small girl with light braid hair tied in twin braids asked Thomas. Thomas nodded without saying anything. He wanted to be polite, he didn't want to cause any trouble for the O'Sullivan's, but he wasn't one to talk to some random stranger either. 

“Isn't it simply amazing!” She squealed waving her hands, and making the measuring tape raise like an angry snake at her. Thomas's was taking circle around him taking down his sizes without care. Thomas didn't squirm around like the girl though. 

“Do you know what house your going to be in?” House? Thomas tilted his head. The school was a dorm, maybe she meant where they'll be living. If so, how would he know? Seeing his confusion the girl giggled into her hands. The measuring tape snapped and slapped her hands with its tail end. 

“Ow.” The girl turned her lips down in a frown rubbing her hands. 

“I think it wants you to stand still.” Thomas offered feeling bad for the measuring tape. It may have been magic making it move, but still it had job. 

“I guess.” She stood still with her arms out. If magical measurement tapes could sigh, Thomas was sure that one would have. “All done Mr. Thomas.” An elderly wizard with grey hair towering higher than Thomas could see told him. 

“Thank you Madam Antoinette.” Aunt Merry hugged the older witch bringing a smile on her otherwise stern looking face. 

“The clothes will be delivered within the day.” Madam Antoinette patted her arm, ducking out of the hug her gazed turned to the once again squirmy girl, who was trying to catch the poor tape. 

“Miss Pipa stand still!” Her voice came down in a firm command, stilling her in seconds. Thomas shook his head and stepped down. 

“Let's get your wands boys.” Aunt Merry smiled, and Thomas perked up. Wands meant magic, and magic meant a whole new world for Thomas. To say he was excited wouldn't even begin to explain his feelings! “Can't wait?” She shook her head her hair shaking around her in waves. 

“Neither can I!” Skipping down the couple steps to the main floor. Thomas smiled, she was the happiest person Thomas ever met. He couldn't help but smile around her. 

“Have fun!” The braided hair girl called out. When Thomas turned both Madam Antoinette and the tape snapped at her moving hands. 

“Stay still!” Madam Antoinette shook a finger at her. Thomas shook his head. He knew the girl for under five minutes, but he had the feeling she wasn't one to stay still. Lars hand came around his shoulder puling him in to a half hug. 

“You're going to love this.” Lars said, “Honestly, I've been looking forward to it myself.” Lars eyes were dancing between colours. Revealing how important this was to him. 

“A wizard's wand is the first important step in his journey.” Uncle Liam said, fallen in beside them as they followed Aunt Merry who was leading the charge. 

“The wand chooses the wizard Thomas.” Aunt Merry said once they were outside. Walking backwards like it was second nature. “It's a bond they is easily forgotten but not easy to break.” 

“Some wands do leave their partners though.” Lars brought up, making Thomas panic. 

“A wand can leave you?” Forget choose you, what if it picked you then left you. Thomas couldn't imagine a worse fate. What f it happened at school? Then you would be wand-less, magic-less, in a school of magic. The mere thought made Thomas's stomach turn. 

“That only works if you loose a magic duel.” Uncle Liam knocked the top of his sons head. 

“And only some wands we'll leave their owners to follow a new one.” Thomas frowned, not feeling much better. Magic duels sounded like a fight, and Thomas had never won one of those in his life. 

“Duels rarely happen Thomas. Don't worry.” Aunt Merry smiled at him. “I've had my wand all my life, never once has it left my side.” Thomas took a deep breathe to settle his nerves. That did make him feel better, but then another worry struck Thomas. 

“Will a wand choose me?” Thomas asked, looking between the three of them. “With me being a mix blood?” Do vampires use wands? Thomas didn't think so, or at least he didn't see any here on the way to the wand shop. Lars's parents gave each other a look, Thomas wasn't sure what it said, but Thomas was sure it wasn't good. 

“I'm sure it'll work out.” A mix feeling struck Thomas chest at his new Aunt's words. It wasn't the heavy feeling of a full lie, but it wasn't the clear feeling of truth either. Thomas looked down at his shoes, another gift from Lars's closet. He didn't say anything, couldn't, and even if he did. Saying the truth out loud wouldn't make it better, and it's not like she meant Thomas any harm. 

“You'll have a wand Thomas.” Lars forced his chin up with his hand. “Trust me.” Lars winked and the cloudy feeling disappeared from his chest. Even if he couldn't feel a truth from a lie, Thomas thought to himself. That he would have believed in Lars anyway. He seemed that sure of himself. 

“If Lars says so, it must be true.” Uncle Liam said, stopping them in from of a large wooden store front. An old glass window that was more dust than window. Showed nothing more than a need for cleaning than the shop's interior. An old sign, dangled above, in gold script on a simple wooden back. Scrolled the word Ollivander's Wand Shop. Underneath it said on a smaller sign in the same script it read Danny Kaye They were already there, much to Thomas's surprise. He had hoped for more time. 

“It's going to work out Thomas.” With a well-meaning push Thomas was forced into the wand shop. A bell ding a small unfamiliar tune above Thomas's head. Looking up he saw three odd shaped bells finishing their music. 

“Ah!” A voice cried out, bringing Thomas's attention to in front of him. He could see nothing but a large dark grained counter, and boxes upon boxes towering on each other. The boxes were slim and narrow, and of various lengths. Thomas didn't need to be told what was in them. To know what they were. Thomas gulped down air. Not calming his nerves one bit. 

“I've been waiting for you!” A bald man in torn and tattered robe popped up above the counter. His face was covered in tiny scares and fresh scratches. His nose was crookeder than some floor boards back at the orphanage, yet still small silver speckles managed to stay on his nose. Even with such a face, he had a large and friendly smile. The difference between the two was enough to break Thomas from his nerves. 

“Danny, no worse for ware I hope.” Uncle Liam stepped forward this time. The man stood up straight his lean form so thin, that Thomas thought if Uncle Liam pulled him into a hug; he would fall into two pieces. 

“New wands are waiting to be discovered! I only need to answer their call!” Danny said, his eyes looking past Uncle Liam and fallen right on him. Thomas shifted towards Lars, who thankfully took a half step in front of him. The man's eyes made Thomas feel uncomfortable. They were different the Rows and the children who hated him, but they were not a gaze filled with a good feeling. 

“Mr. Thomas. My first vampire client. I have been so looking forward to your visit.” His voice pinched in the middle, and sounded down right creepy. Thomas wondered how he knew he was a vampire. Putting a hand to his hair, which was still doing his job hiding his ears from view. 

“We had to tell the school, and word sort of spread from there.” Lars whispered, turning his head, but Thomas notice his eyes; now dark grey were staring at Danny, who Thomas assumed was the wand maker. 

“Yes, but I would like to do Lars wand first.” Uncle Liam smiled, looking very relaxed, unbothered by the vibe coming off Danny. “Thomas is a bit nervous.” 

“Understandable!” Danny clapped his thin crooked fingers together. “As requested I gathered my silver lime wands.” Danny disappeared under the counter and popped back up. Reminding Thomas of a gopher that had lived by the house Old Man lived in. He reappeared with three very different looking wands on a black tray in his hands. 

“Silver lime is a hard to come by material, very expensive and very hard to work with.” 

“We understand.” Aunt Merry spoke up looking very serious. 

“I can't say one will choose him either!” Danny shook his head. “The wand chooses its owner. That remains unchanged.” 

“I'm sure it'll work out.” Lars stepped forward, looking just as serious and very certain that he would be chosen. Thomas feverishly wished he possessed that can of strength, but he was much to quiet for such a loud feeling. At least that is what Thomas thought. 

“Then try your hand! I would love to see a silver lime at work.” Danny back away and so did Lars's parents. Thomas didn't he inched a little closer. Curious as to what was about to happen. Without so much as a blink Lars reached for the middle wand. Completely ignoring the twisted white silvery one on the right and the let one witch was a series of several large knots in its length. 

The sliver wood shimmered with Lars's touch. It was a smooth, long line that is larger at the base, with a bit of a curve to it. It shook in Lars hand, only making Lars, clamp down on it. Thomas held his breath and watched it buck and weave under his grip. Thomas could hear the sound of Lars teeth gritting as he refused to let go. 

“Give it up.” Lars brogue made his whispered almost impossible for Thomas to understand. Then a light from nowhere shown down on Lars. Lighting his face in a smile that was almost all teeth. Lars looked so fierce then, it made Thomas's heart jump. Not in fear, but in a feeling Thomas's couldn't describe, and was quick to dismiss. 

“The first time I've seen a bucking wand!” Danny clapped his hands. “No mistaking that you may have foreseen certain things? M mm.” Danny gave Lars a big grin that stretched his skin over his face, giving Thomas the shivers. 

“See? Easy.” Lars turned towards Thomas an easy smile on his face, but Thomas didn't miss the slight gleam of sweat on his brow. “12 inches (30.48 cm) a dramatic wand with a Thunderbird core. This wand has a feisty disposition Mr. Lars. Don't be surprise if it tests you quit a bit before it listens to you fully.” Danny folded his arms over his chest. 

“Honestly didn't see this wand ever picking an owner. It cursed a few students who tried their hands at it a few years ago actual.” Danny laughed, but Thomas didn't see the humour. 

“Wands can work on their own?” That idea didn't sound all that great to Thomas. 

“Only the odd one.” Lars came over patting his shoulder but keeping his wand tight and away from Thomas. Thomas looked at it and it gleamed sliver. To Thomas, it looked like it was plotting. 

“It is an odd feature, but so his a Thunderbird core with silver lime wood. I'll never have another like it.” Danny nodded with a sigh, like that was a bad thing. 

“Come on Mr. Thomas we're about to make history!” Danny waved him over. With a gentle nudge from Lars. Thomas swallowed his fears and took the first step to getting his magic.

“Okay.” Thomas stood in front of Danny. He was shaking like a leaf, and he couldn't stop it, but he didn't run either. “What would please your vampire abilities, but bond with your wizard nature?” Danny looked at Thomas or more like through him. Thomas's hair stood on end, but determined to show some grit he didn't move an eyelash. 

“Thomas is unique. Maybe a wand that is very different from your others would work?” Lars spoke up from behind Thomas. Making the light in Danny's eyes ping to live. 

“That's it!” He shouted turning around in a swirl of dust. He disappeared in the hoard of shelving and boxes behind him. Coming out his arms with several boxes, and dumping them without care on the counter. Pulling out a box Thomas was handed a long wand with a rainbow strike running through it's center. 

“Try this.” Taking it in hand. Thomas waited for it to move, but it didn't. 

“Try given it a wave dear.” Aunt Merry said from the side. Thomas did as instructed and from the tip a bolt shot through whipping a whole shelf clear of its wands. Thomas jumped and quickly dropped the wand onto the counter. 

“No, no. To big, much to big for you.” Danny muttered, his bald head bent and his finger moving the lid of a box. Thomas was passed a smaller, dark wand with a sea hoarse as a handle base. The wand felt warm in his hand, Thomas felt hopeful when he gave it a wave. The wand shot from his like he was planning on snapping it. Landing perfectly back in the box from where Danny pulled it. 

“That's new.” Danny said blinking as much as Thomas. Did the wand just run away from him? Thomas wondered. 

“The next one for sure.” Lars encouraged him, and Thomas looked at Danny. Creepy as he was, he was his only hope of getting a wand. 

“A troublesome wand for a troublesome boy.” Danny narrowed his gaze at Thomas. 

“I'm not troublesome.” Thomas muttered mostly to himself. Feeling a little offended by both the last wand and Danny. 

“Here!” Danny didn't pass him the wand this time, but handed him the box. Thomas peaked inside. A white glossy wood with red strikes running in its grains greeted him. It was smooth and perfectly straight. At it's base was at least two extra inches of white metal formed into several small hoops that reach up to a pointed crown. It's its clasp is a delicate red stone, that is diamond shape. The stone had dark and clear spots, and held a strong appeal to Thomas. 

“Laurel wood, very difficult to work with. Not a dishonest thought can stroll through your head or heart when working with this wood.” Danny whispered, catching the attention of Thomas. “This wand will not perform for the dishonourable, and possess a lethal magic only released to the most loyal.” 

“It can't lie?” Thomas asked, feeling attached to the wand already. 

“Correction. You can't lie.” Danny said. “This wand didn't even like to be touched by me after I made it. The unicorn I got its core from was young, and curious but far more unyielding in its loyalty than any other. It is the only wand I have ever made using that unicorn.” 

“Can I?” Thomas asked his trembling to try this wand. Danny pushed the wand box closer. Thomas took it out with care. Moving it in his hand until it reach a comfortable spot in the center of his hand. His fingers curved around the cures of the metal base. Thomas felt a warmth spread through his body. Spreading the warmth came out around Thomas covering him in a soft glow that retreated back into him, and his wand. 

“It likes me.” Thomas smiled and turned towards Lars, who gave him a thumbs up in victory. 

“A small wand, 8 inches (20.32 cm) without the 2-inch base, it will favour a more elegant style. I wonder if that is what appealed to your vampire nature?” Danny nodded his head in thought, tilted it left and then the right. “Perhaps the white gold appealed to it? Vampire are as much attracted to riches as a dragon after all.” 

“White gold?” Thomas said, he didn't know what white gold meant, but he didn't need to know that. To know that gold meant a lot of money. Thomas looked at his wand and looking at the stone, he paled a bit more. “What is the stone?” Thomas hoped it wasn't anything to crazy, not that Thomas knew a great deal about expensive stones. 

“Can't say.” Danny shook his head. “I take so many trips, looking for rare and usual things to experiment with.” He shrugged his shoulders. “All I remember is that I got it from some woods.” Danny frowned, his eyebrows curving inward. “I think that was the trip that made me lose my hair for the fourth time.” 

“Price is not an issue.” Uncle Liam came over and rested a hand on Thomas's head. Forcible rubbing Thomas's head. 

“Don't worry about it.” Thomas nodded and clutched his wand tight. He really didn't want to give the wand up. “There should be a wand pocket in your left pocket.” Lars came over and lifted the robe showing Thomas, that there was a slim pocket in there. Thomas tightening his lips. It didn't look that safe for a wand to sit. 

“Won't it fall out?” Thomas asked, not putting his wand in the pocket. Lars lifted his robe to show his that his sat safe and sound in his pocket. Still, Thomas was hesitant to place it in there. 

“Idea!” Aunt Merry came over and pulled out a piece of black leather from her ring. It looked like small thin gun holster. Thomas only knew this from the old westerns that would play on the bar TV. She came over and swung it around Thomas's, where it magically shrunk and came to a perfect fit on his waist. The holster sat on his left side. 

“Your wand and my wand are about the same size.” She stepped back and lifted her pink robe showing a shinning white holster with a black wand peaking out. “I just bought a new one.” She gave him a thumbs up before dropping her robe down. You couldn't even tell she was wearing it. Thomas place his wand with great care in his holster and found the fit was perfect. 

“Thank you.” Thomas said in a soft voice. Not only for the wand, but for all the things they were doing for him. “It's nothing to thank me over!” She laughed and brushed his face with her hand. 

“If you thank her too much, she'll get used to it.” Lars laughed, “You'll make me looked bad. Now that you have matching holsters and everything.” That made the mother-son duo start to bicker. Thomas shook his head. How could he explain what kindness meant to him? Rubbing the edges of his robe with a smile. 

“You could get one too Lars. Then we could all match.” Thomas said, wanting to be included in their fun. Aunt Merry turned eyes sparkling at the idea. Lars shook his head firmly against the idea. 

“Everything is paid for.” Uncle Liam came over stopping the budding discussion. “Shall we get some lunch?” 

“Wouldn't we have to pass the owls again?” Lars said his face speaking volumes of what he thought of that idea. 

“Let's go home to eat!” Aunt Merry suggested. Thomas could tell she didn't want to go by the owls again either. 

“Don't we have some books to get?” Thomas asked, even his weird schooling had books involved. 

“I'll pick those up and meet with you guys back home.” Uncle Liam said, “It won't take me to long. Do you want to come along Thomas?” He turned and asked Thomas. A magic book store sounded fun, Thomas turned to Lars, asking without asking; if he wouldn't mind. 

“Go right ahead.” Lars smiled, “I'll see you at home.” With it all decided they split up. Thomas had a blast going through the old book store. Lars's father found out Thomas had a love for poetry and got him a few books to take with him to school. Thomas found a couple old potion books buried in a used book pile. Filled with notes from their previous owners Thomas was hook. Sitting right down on the spot to start flicking through them. When Uncle Liam found him, he bought those books for him as well. Picking up a few old volumes of lore for himself on the way back to the till. 

They even stopped to look at the owls. Thomas didn't want one, but he was curious. He had never seen an owl up close before. A small owl with soft brown feathers and black and white eyebrows was really friendly. Dancing up and around Thomas shoulders before flying up to Lars's father's shoulders. To do the same dance. The little owl was quickly sold to a small Asian woman. 

Thomas thought Uncle Liam looked a little sad to see it go, but they quickly left. Going back to the far corner that the came in from, he offered to take them to lunch at the leaky cauldron. Which to Thomas surprise, was hidden behind the brick wall! Thomas shook his head after a bit of thought. 

They got back home to a happy Berry bringing out lunch. Thomas received another berry tray, much to his delight, and a small bloody steak. Which he all but inhaled. Thomas never enjoyed a meal so much in his life and even gave Berry a quick hug. Making the house elf turn bright red. The rest of the day was filled with school preparations. Aunt Merry took the role of showing of simple spells, and Lars spouted off information left and right. About houses, sorting hats, and to Thomas's horror singing toads. 

When night fell. Thomas didn't feel a bit tired, which was not unusual for him. Instead of being order to sleep or laying wide eyes in the dark. He was given a small oil lamp, tucked into Lars's room and settled onto the odd couch, called lounge chair by Lars. Thomas spent the night slowly going over the new information he got today, and he even found the time to pull out the unfinished figure of the Old Man he was working on. With his trusted by old knife he completed the figurine by the time morning came around.


	7. Burden of Sight

With the pale yellow rays of morning shinning through the round window that Thomas next to. He used it to give his figure a look over. He was happy with the over-all look. Hard angle of the chin, with the shoulder-length hair. With a tall, thin figure that seemed to tower over a person. If he had smaller blades her would have the details of his face, the sharp tall nose and deep set dark eyes. Would make an interesting figure. 

Stroking his thumb over the rough edges of the figure. Thomas remembered Old Man, no matter how cold he could be; he was always nice to Thomas. He missed him. Shaking of his sadness, Thomas placed his knife, and the 12-inch figure aside — he stood up with a stretch. Noticing the beam moved across the room, hitting the foot of the bed. Thomas hoped that it didn't wake up Lars. 

“N mm,” Lars moaned in his sleep. Tomas glanced over and saw Lars twisting under the blankets. His face pinched in pain. Thomas hurried over, was he having a nightmare? At Lars's side of the bed, he saw a sweat soaking Lars's face. 

“Lars!” Thomas called to him in a shouting whisper. Wanting to stop his nightmare, but not wanting to wake him, if he could shake it off and get more sleep. Lars didn't notice, instead his face paled and his fist twisted in the blankets. “Lars!” Thomas shouted. Getting worried while watching the colour draining further from Lars face, and neck. “Please wake up!” Thomas shook his arm. Lars pulled away. 

“No!” He cried his arms flaring out, his arms were a ghost white and soaked with his sweat. 

“Lars!” Thomas cried, but his voice was not reaching Lars. Not sure what to do, he ran out of the room. Determined to get Lars's parents. Once in the hall, Thomas remembered that he didn't know which room was theirs. 

“Berry!” Thomas cried out hoping the house elf would hear him. Berry appeared in front of him. Having her come from nowhere no longer scared Thomas, since he now knew she could do that. Instead, it made Thomas grateful that she could appear so fast. Yawning and rubbing her large eyes in a blue lace nightgown — Berry blinked at him. 

“Mr. Thomas?” Berry looked up at him. “What is wrong?” 

“It's Lars! He's pale, and sweaty.” Thomas spilled out. “I can't wake him up.” Thomas felt his heart running faster than when the boys used to chase him down. There he could run, but he couldn't do anything here. 

“He must be having a vision.” Berry eyes narrowed. “Go back to his side. I'll get his mother.” Berry disappeared with a snap. Thomas didn't have time to question what she meant by vision. Thomas ran back inside the bedroom. He jumped on the bed and crawled to his side. Lars's twisted and failed, against whatever monster he was fighting in his dreams. Had to be bad. 

“I'm here.” Thomas grabbed one of Lars's hands. Forcing it still in his two hands. It felt cold even though it was damp with sweat. “I'm here.” Thomas repeated. Wishing he could dive into his dreams and help fight off whatever made his spine twist. Facing a monster is less scary when you have friend. Not that Thomas had one before, but it felt right to him. 

“How long has it been?” Lars's mother came in a blur of blue's and purples. Running around the bed and to Lars's other side. 

“A few minutes?” Thomas wasn't sure. “It feels like forever.” Thomas whispered. Watching Lars eyes beat back and forth under his eyelids, faster than Thomas could keep track of. 

“Berry.” Aunt Merry waved her hand out palm up. Berry placed a soft cloth in it. She started to pat Lars's forehead, making no effort to wake him. 

“Can't you wake him?” Thomas asked, rubbing Lars's hand in his. Berry cam back to his side, patting his back. Reassuring him, Thomas thought it was a nice jester; that Lars could use more than him. 

“He has to finish it.” Uncle Liam came into the room. Not that Thomas saw him, his focus was on Lars. “He should come to soon.” 

“Hew,” Lars's eyes popped open, as he took in a gulp of air like he was drowning. His eyes looked like they were growing grey. His hand clamped down on Thomas's. He squeezed until it hurt, but Thomas didn't care. 

“What is it?” Uncle Liam asked, Thomas glanced at him. He was standing at the foot of the bed. 

“Cards.” Lars voice creaked, sounding hard and old. Not like Lars at all. Even his brogue was gone. Berry hands ducked in placing a soft black cards in his hands. Aunt Merry helped him get into a sitting position. Lars's let go of Thomas's hands, taking the cards. They looked like a deck of cards, but Thomas good tell there wasn't enough there to play a game. Lars's eyes still glowing grey shuffled the deck over his lap. 

“Fool. New beginnings, the new school year. Upright.” Lars's face went dark, his lips curved into a snarl. “I am not a fool.” Thomas peered at the cared he faced up. A blond man wearing a black and grey mask split into four squares. Shrugging his shoulder at Lars's words. It looked to Thomas as if he was dismissing Lars's words. 

“Emperor. Reversed. Chaos.” Lars shook and his hands dropped the card. The blond man smiled, his teeth spark with a white sinister smile. Thomas's shivered, the card looked dangerous. “Death. Anger. Thomas.” Thomas reached out to Lars, after he said his name with a quiver. Berry appeared at his side holding him back with a shake of his head. 

“Magician. Reversed. Deception.” Lars frowned with the turning of the next card. The same blonde man lugged as he hung upside-down, his robe folding over his head. “A chance.” 

“Dare you take it?” The magician asked. His voice sounded like Lars, but it was older and much darker than any voice he could imagine coming out of him. Lars's eyes closed with a nod from his head. Then he slumped over. 

“Lars!” Thomas grabbed Lars. He leaned him upright and leaning him on the headboard. “Wake up!” Thomas's begged. Feeling scared and very worried. The depth of worry shook his heart and broke the calm he usually managed to keep there. He knew Lars for only a few days, but he already was important to him. 

“He's fine Thomas.” Aunt Merry's voice drifted over in a gentle whisper. “It was just a vision.” 

“Just — just?” Thomas repeated the word, shaking his head; he confirmed it. It didn't sound right. “I don't know what you mean by vision.” Thomas said, he was sure it might more than seeing, but Thomas didn't care. “I don't need to. To know Lars's is not fine!” Thomas said, venting his anger at Aunt Merry. Realizing he sounded bad, yelling at Aunt Merry. “I'm sorry.” Thomas's ducked his head. 

“It's alright Thomas.” Lars's voice weak spoke up. His eyes returned to their every changing shades. Thomas's relaxed seeing a pink flush return to his pale skin. 

“You're okay!” Thomas cried, his hand shaking on Lars's shoulder. 

“Like Mother said, it was a vision.” Lars's shifted sitting up stronger and not relying so much on the headboard. 

“I don't think you should have them anymore.” Thomas said sitting back with his hands on his chest. His heart was starting to beat at a normal pace again. 

“It's a gift from our Goddess.” Aunt Merry said, bringing the cloth back to Lars's face, clearing up the last remaining sweat. “It's not something he can stop or cast aside.” 

“I've tried. It only makes things worse.” Lars gave Thomas a smile, using only the one side of his lips. A fake smile if Thomas ever saw one. “Fight it and the pain is unbearable and the vision useless.” Lars shrugged, accepting of his fate. “Don't fight, I have a chance to change fate, and the pain passes as fast as it comes. The Goddess works in mysterious ways.” Lars sighed, sounding very tired, and much older than Thomas knew he was. 

“What are these visions?” Thomas frowned, “Can I help you or can this Goddess help?” Thomas didn't question this goddess of theirs, if magic could exist; why not a goddess too? 

“She already helps.” Lars said, “And you are too.” 

“In what way?” Thomas didn't think he had help much. “You being here helps more than you know.” Lars reached out and took Thomas's hand. 

“What was it Lars?” Uncle Liam came around and stood behind Aunt Merry. His hands resting on her shoulders. “It looked like a heavy one.” Aunt Merry helped Lars pick up his card and put them back into a neat pile. 

“A choice I must make.” Lars looked at Thomas. “There is something I need your help with Thomas.” His eyes turning a rusting grey, looking very close to that glow that they had earlier. 

“What?” Thomas said bracing himself. 

“I need you to go into a different house from me.” Lars said. Thomas's wanted to know about this change in heart. They had spoke of houses yesterday and it sounded to Thomas that he wanted them in the same house. 

“You don't have any say in that Lars.” Uncle Liam frowned at Lars, Lars only shook his head. 

“Untrue. The hat will listen. It will listen to me.” Lars fist clenched into a painful looking fist. 

“Why do I have to go into a different house?” Thomas was looking forward to housing together. Going to the same classes, and enjoying for the first time. A real friendship. In a normal environment. Thomas wasn't stupid enough to believe that what the Rows did was normal. 

“What did you see?” Aunt Merry asked, there they went again. Thomas frowned. Visions, seeing, Thomas thought about it, but nothing came to mind for what it would mean. 

“I won't speak of it.” Lars refused to answer. “I only have to change it.” 

“Lars.” Uncle Liam drawled out Lars's name. 

“What are visions?” Thomas said with a whisper. Feeling the tensions raise between the heated gazes of Lars and Uncle Liam. 

“I get glimpses of the future. A possible future.” Lars said, turning to Thomas and ignoring his fathers narrowed gaze. 

“They always make you so...” Thomas waved his hand around looking for the right word. 

“Weak?” Lars smiled, and nodded. Like it wasn't a big deal. “To a degree. This is the worse one I've had in a while.” 

“And it was about?” Uncle Liam asked again. Lars shrugged his shoulders. 

“You heard what I saw.” Lars said, without telling them anything. 

“Something about me?” Thomas said, remembering the chill he got from Lars's calling his name. “And death?” Thomas shook, now that things have calmed down. He knew that didn't sound good. 

“That is not happening!” Lars snapped. “We only need to change something. To change the outcome.” Lars tossed the blanket off him, covering Thomas's head. Thomas brushed it off, and saw that Berry shrewdly escaped from the blanket and the room. “Which is why we need to be in different houses.” Lars said, turning to Thomas. His face pinched into a frown and his eyes open wide but with a firm gaze. 

“How?” Thomas didn't want to push Lars. He looked a bit shaking around the edges, and sometimes you need someone to believe in you. Without questioning, you. Lars shoulders relaxed, and he slipped out of bed, stepping around his parents. Whose eyes watched him with an unwavering love and concern. 

“I'll talk to the hat. You need to be in Gryffindor.” Lars took a deep breath. “You must.” Lars voice shook. Thomas nodded. 

“Okay.” Thomas agreed. Doing what he could for Lars, which was being there and trusting him. 

“I know — I know you wanted to be in the same house.” Lars stopped and looked at Thomas. “Wait, did you agree?” 

“I trust you, if I need to be in a different house. Then I'll be in a different house.” All three O'Sullivan's turned and looked at Thomas. With what Thomas could only describe as a mixture of amazement and questions. “I know you're not lying.” Thomas touched his chest. Feeling clear as day in both his feeling and his words. “I know you will do this with or without me.” Lars was a stubborn guy, you didn't need to know him long to notice. 

“I rather you do it with me.” Thomas looked down to collect the rest of his thoughts. Looking back up into Lars eyes. Look a man in the eye. Is what Old Man always used to say, and something Thomas tried to lived by. 

“It would be nice if you could trust me too.” Thomas said. Trust goes both ways, right? Thomas scanned Lars's face. Waiting on his answer. 

“Yes Lars. It would be nice.” Aunt Merry turned her eyes to Lars. Batting them with a smile fighting a winning battle with the frown that was once on her lips. 

“Thomas as some point.” Uncle Liam said, a sigh heaving off his chest. “When you get to school. You'll need someone, someone like Thomas.” Uncle Liam gave Thomas a smile. “Who you can trust.” 

“Fine,” Lars sighed in a manner so close to his father. Thomas smiled, wondering if the stubbornness ran thick in Uncle Liam too. “Slytherin and Gryffindor share class times. We can still be together, but we can't be in the same house.” 

“Why wouldn't Thomas be in Slytherin?” Aunt Merry sat on the edge of the bed. 

“No!” Lars shouted the whites of his eyes shaking his pupil. “It's okay Aunt Merry.” Thomas said, before going back to Lars. 

“We'll still have the same classes though, right?” Thomas said confirming Lars's earlier words. Lars nodded. “Okay. Then will do whatever you think is best.” Thomas felt Lars might do something crazy, if he didn't reassure Lars he would do his plan. 

“Thanks Thomas.” Lars smiled, “Now I'm going to shower and get dress.” Lars walked around his father and went to the bathroom with impressive speed. 

“Watch over that fool for me, will you?” Uncle Liam said, walking out of the room with his hand messing through his hair. 

“They're both to stubborn for their own good.” Aunt Merry said, turning she leaned over to Thomas. “But that's why they'll need us around.” She winked and slid of the bed with an overarm stretched. 

“Might as well start our day.” She walked around the bed, and headed out the room. Stopping at the door. She turned back, “Wait on him will you?” Thomas agreed with a silent nod. Thomas flopped back on the bed, looking at the ceiling. Noticing for the first time. That the ceiling had a white design engrave in its plaster. Listening to the pounding of the shower from the bathroom. Thomas wondered if he should have fought with Lars more. Demanded more information. Sought the reason behind his fear. 

“Next time.” Thomas decided. This time, he'll be patient and wait things out. He wasn't sure where he stood. The things with the cards, Lars being so pale that he could have been a ghost. He wasn't sure where Lars stood either. With talks of goddess and visions. Thomas was clueless to it all. Thinking on it made his head hurt. 

“Your turn.” Lars called out from the bathroom door, Thomas looked at him upside-down from the bed. 

“Okay.” Thomas rolled off the bed, and met him at the door. Lars looked back to normal, like nothing happen. When he brushed past him, Lars whispered his thanks.Thomas nodded. Then he turned. 

“Lars?” Thomas stopped Lars, who looked at him with a frozen look on his face. “Wait for me?” 

“Sure,” Lars nodded a real smile drifting on his face. Tired but real. “Thanks.” Thomas smiled back and turned into the bathroom. Hoping that Lars would wait for him. Not to leave the bathroom, but to be able to stand by his side. To be a pillar he could relay on. Feeling much better with that straightforward plan in mind. Even though he had no idea how to achieve it...yet. 

The rest of the day was less eventful, and the rest of the month as well. Went by with no visions or turmoil, only peaceful bliss. Thomas tried his hand at a few potions, and the simple ones went great. The more complicated ones... left a hole in the floor. It was easy to fix, and a great way to make Lars feel better. He never seen anyone laugh so hard. Before he knew it, it was time to board to go to school. 

“This is for you.” Uncle Liam gave Thomas a small black ring the morning before they left. “It goes on your pinky.” 

“What is it?” Tomas asked putting the ring on his pinky finger. It was a perfect fit. Thomas admired the matte black ring on hand. 

“It's a storage ring. Like mine. All your school supplies are in there, books.” Uncle Liam winked, “Some wood blocks as well.” Thomas brighten, he had carved the family out of hunks of branches he had found in the yard. Berry included; handing them out as he finished them. They had all been happy with their gifts. Uncle Liam was now even helping him find some wood to work with. 

“Thanks!” Thomas raised the ring in front of his face. 

“How do I use it?” Thomas asked wanting to give it a try. 

“Take your knife out.” Thomas dug out his knife from his jean pocket. They had to travel through muggle London, so no robes today. “Think about storing the knife.” 

“Store knife.” Thomas said, and pictured into disappearing into the ring. Like a putting it into a trunk. Thomas watched the knife disappear into the ring. “How to get it out?” Thomas looked at the ring and back up to Uncle Liam's face. 

“Think about looking into the ring.” Uncle Liam smiled, “I see that you're a natural at it. This should be easy. ” Thomas looked at the ring. Picturing it opening up at his will. He got an awarded of an image appearing in his mind. It was a black space, more like a box; with his school things all stacked up in neat rows. His knife was the last thing in the space. Thomas reached out for you, then a weight filled his hand. Blinking the box was gone and his knife in his hand. 

“Amazing.” Thomas whispered, placing the knife back in and out a few times. Before he felt it was a natural thing to do, much like breathing. 

“I see you have it down.” Lars came to his side, pulling on his jeans with his free hand. 

“Not comfortable?” Thomas asked, seeing Lars continue to pick at his jeans. 

“Not at all.” Lars frowned. “Lets hurry to the train. For we can get back in our robes.” Lars pulled at the edge of his plain white shirt, looking disgusted. 

“Let's go then.” Aunt Merry came to the door. Wearing a yellow flora sundress. Looking as chipper as Berry looked sad. 

“They'll be back for the holidays.” Uncle Liam said pulling the small house elf in to a hug. 

“It's all so sad!” Rubbing her tears into Uncle Liam's shoulder. 

“I'll write you a letter Berry.” Thomas offered trying to bring the cheer back into the usually happy elf. “I can do that right?” Thomas looked to Lars. 

“I'll write you one too.” Lars nodded. “We'll miss you too Berry.” Berry sniffled and nodded, disappearing with a snap. 

“Let's go before she gets more upset.” Uncle Liam said, Aunt Merry nodded and ushered them out the door. They started at the Leaky Cauldron and walked to the station. It was much to busy for Thomas's liking, Lars brought him to his side. Letting Thomas walk on the inside and taking all the jarring for Thomas. 

The big city was much different from the small town he came from. He couldn't image living here. When they got to the station, Thomas looked around. Wandering among the crowds of people pulling though. Who, like him was going to Hogwarts? All he could see was other people dressed like him — like a muggle. Whom were muggles in all likeliness. 

“Platform 93/4 this way.” Aunt Merry pulled Thomas from his thoughts. Only to see them standing between two brick arches. With Aunt Merry pointed at a wall. Surly she didn't think Thomas could go through it? 

“Um,” Thomas paused, opening his mouth and looking at Lars, whose face wasn't given away anything. Uncle Liam had a smile on his face, his head shaking at either Aunt Merry or himself. Thomas wasn't sure. “Go through the wall?” 

“Funny enough muggles never fall in.” Lars tilted his head in thought. Thomas guess it wasn't a big deal, still Thomas eyed the wall. On one hand he knew that could do some damage to a guys face, and Thomas didn't want to go to school with a broken nose. On the other, he knew that Lars's and family wouldn't send him flying into a wall. 

“Must I?” Thomas looked over at the smiling trio. 

“Come on, I'll go with you.” Lars chuckled and took Thomas by the arm. Runny — dragging Thomas into the wall. “You can open your eyes.” Thomas heard Lars say, opening his eyes that he hadn't known he's closed. 

“Ah,” Thomas reached up and touched his nose. “All in one piece.” Thomas sighed in relief. 

“What did you think was going to happen!” Lars laughed, his parents coming in through the wall behind him. 

“Ah! We're running late!” Aunt Merry came over and started pushing them from behind. Thomas looked around and the only people left on the platform was other adults. 

“Told you we should have hailed a cab.” Uncle Liam muttered running behind them. 

“Take care. I love you guys!” She smack them both on the face with two big kisses. 

“Write, and take care of each other.” Uncle Liam said, looking at Thomas. “Some need more care than they think.” His eyes shifted to Lars, who was hugging his mother. Thomas nodded. 

“I will.” Thomas whispered, his voice cut off by a bellowing of a train. Lars pulled Thomas up the steps, and the door closed. Thomas waved at Lars's parents, his new aunt and uncle until they faded from sight.


	8. Train Ride

“Let's get a cabin.” Lars said turning and going down the hall. The floor was shaking with the movement of the train. Lars moved down without opening any of the doors. Thomas could hear laughter and happy conversations happening beyond the frosted train doors. Trailing beyond Lars, he didn't question where he was going. The vision he had Lars took the night to explain it more to him. While his parents slept. 

Lars explained that what he saw would lead to a deadly end — if drastic turns weren't taking. Thomas agreed to follow along, as long as he was in the loop.He worried about Lars, and wanted to help him more, but Thomas was a people watcher. Lars acted different when he tried to pry more details out of him. His eyes grew cold, his shoulders stiffened and his words bordered on a lie. Thomas would rather be at his side with half-answer's than be away from him without any. 

Thomas felt, no knew that Lars would drive him away. If that fixed things, stop things. Watching that back walking away from him. He felt he was looking at the Old Man's back. Lars knew more than he would say, and said more than you could figure out. Perhaps, that's why it was easier for Thomas to go with it. He was used to it. 

“Here we are.” Lars opened up the door on the last door. 

“You don't mind sharing, do you? Everywhere else was full.” Lars asked, smiling at whoever was inside. Entering he saw a boy look tall even while sitting. His pale face framed in straight sliver blonde hair. His bangs, pinned back with a clip, his honey brown eyes looked sad but that didn't stop him from appearing cute. Was he even a boy — cute? 

“Already in your school robes?” Lars said getting himself a window seat. 

“Uh, yes.” The blonde boy hesitated. Not looking Lars in the eyes, and picking at the black slacks beneath his black robes. Pants meant he was boy, Thomas gave an inward sigh of relieve. Lars saved him from a rather embarrassing talk. Sitting beside Lars the boys darted up and stop right at Lars face. 

“Your from Ireland?” The golden brown eyes looked as curious as they did timid. 

“Originally, but my family moved to England. That way I could attend Hogwarts with Thomas.” Lars said. Thomas knew that they had moved to England to pick up Thomas, but to attend Hogwarts specifically? That was never brought up. 

“Hogwarts take students from Ireland.” The boy's voice kept to a soft tone, but sounded confident. Lars shook his head. 

“We are on the wrong side. My folks went to Durmstrang.” Lars grimaced. “It's gotten better over the years, but not a place my parents felt that I or Thomas should attend.” 

“It does have a certain...” The blonde boy paused. “Reputation.” 

“They are many good people there, but why take chances.” Lars shrugged his shoulders.

“What is wrong with Durmstrang?” Thomas asked, wanting to know more. He thought Aunt Merry would want to send Lars to her old school. He could see her getting all excited about it and reminiscing. 

“It's known for its focus on dark arts.” Lars said, his eyes narrowing in thought. 

“Hogwarts has a dark arts class.” Thomas said, thinking to the defence of the dark arts books he had picked up together with Uncle Liam. 

“That's defence against.” The blond boy spoke up. “Durmstrang. Is known for teaching it or at least something that borders on the dark arts themselves.” 

“My parents were lucky, they had were strong; but others.” Lars shook his head. “Let's say some old habits die hard.” 

“Using magic to hurt others. I can't image it.” The blonde boy paled at bit and looked out the window. He looked like he wanted to escape through it, a feeling that Thomas could relate too. “It's very much like Slytherin.” 

“Slytherin is not bad.” Thomas offered, he knew that Lars would be there, and Lars would never go into a house filled with bad people. 

“Many a witch or wizard that enters Slytherin is bad or worse.” His hands trembled as he pulled him into his robe. 

“Ask the hat for another house then.” Thomas said, shrugging his shoulders. It seemed like an easy fix to him. After-all that is what Lars and him planned on doing. 

“Malfoy's are a Slytherin family.” He folded his hands into himself. “I've prepared myself for it.” Thomas didn't know what else to say, looking at Lars. He saw him watching the other boy with a thoughtful look on his face. 

“Let's change.” Lars said. Completely ignoring the atmosphere. 

“Okay.” Thomas not seeing anything else he could do here. He looked at his ring, pulling the robes from its depths. He noticed that Lars didn't need to look at his ring to get his robes, but that didn't surprise Thomas one bit. Changing without a care with who was around him. He finally got to donning the robe, when the head a whimpering coming from the window seat. 

“You're the vampire.” The blond boy took in a sharp breath, his body was wavering in his seat. Thomas gave Lars a sharp glance. How did he know? Thomas's reach for his hair, the braid that covered the one ear, got caught behind his ear. Revealing the pointed tip. The other? Covered in his thick black hair. 

“The school knows.” Lars shrug, leaning back his brogue didn't seem to have any sort of soothing effect on the boy as it did Thomas. Instead, his legs trembled. “Hogwarts is working with S.T.V. For vampire like Thomas can attend school.” 

“S.T.V. ?” Thomas asked sitting beside the relaxed Lars. Ignoring the boys reaction to him. 

“Society for the Tolerance of Vampires. The S.T.V.. Is an organization that supports the mainstreaming of vampires into polite wizarding society.” Lars nodded, and offered Thomas a smile. 

“They were tinkled when you choose to go to Hogwarts.” Thomas blinked in wonder. A society that liked vampires? That sounded...good. 

“Did my father work with them?” Thomas asked Lars. It sounded like they shared similar goals, at least from what little he knew about his father. 

“Not sure.” Lars shrugged, tapping a finger to his bottom lip he continued. “At the very least they have the same ideals. Wanting an interrogation of vampire and witches.” Tipping his head back and forth, Lars added. “They used to be viewed as crackpots, your kind of validation of their work 'til now.” 

“Oh,” Thomas didn't know what else to say. It was a bit strange, and seemed out of place from his life until now. 

“Should I do anything?” Thomas wasn't sure if this group was at the school or? 

“I wouldn't worry about it.” Lars stretched his arms in the air. Looking very relaxed. “If anyone bothers you about it. Send them to me.” 

“Thanks.” Thomas had no doubts that Lars would have his back. It made the overwhelming — manageable. “It's good to have a friend.” Thomas smiled and leaned back, basking in the pleasure of knowing he was no longer alone. 

“You-you aren't scared?” The blond boy broke in looking around with a whisper. Thomas put his hands back on his lap, was the boy scared of him? 

“Of what?” Thomas asked, confused. 

“Reactions.” His brown eyes looked up, shaking but firm. 

“I have Lars.” Thomas shrugged, he didn't care much about other people. He didn't see himself mingling with others. Let alone those who would judge him by his vampire nature. By his ears like the Rows. 

“Oh,” he turned away. Looking at the speeding trees rushing past the window. Thomas looked to Lars, who only shrugged his shoulders. 

“Where's the vampire!” The door busted open. Thomas recognized the girl from the tailor shop a month ago. She left an impression on him, the image of the tape measure smacking at her was firming implanted in his head. 

“There.“ The blonde boy ratted him out with a pint of his finger. Thomas gave him a sideways stare. 

“I remember you!” She came over her braids trailing behind her. “I saw you getting your robes.” 

“Um, hello.” Thomas nodded. 

“You don't sparkle.” She slumped onto the floor. Looking disappointed before sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him. In her school skirt. Staring at him sparkling brown eyes. Thomas didn't think eyes could sparkle, but there they were. “Do you bite?” 

“Um, no.” Thomas shook his head. 

“Drink blood?” She asked again placing her chin in her hands and staring at him. With the eagerness Thomas thought was like a puppy. Thomas shook his head. “Garlic?” Thomas paused, and nodded. He came across it a few times in the Rows attempt to cleanse him. 

“I didn't know that garlic affected you.” Lars game closer, not bother by the girl at all. 

“Well he is a vampire.” The girl nodded with her eyes closed, like she knew. 

“Makes my eyes burn and my skin break out in the nasty rash.” Thomas explained to the pair. Feeling more relaxed since Lars joined in. 

“Like an allergy.” Lars mused. Thomas nodded agreeing with the assessment. 

“So no blood?” The girl slumped her shoulder looking very disappointed. 

“I'm not old enough yet.” Thomas said with a pause. “I think.” He muttered more to himself than to her. 

“When you get older can I see your fangs?” She perked back up. Thomas nodded and shrugged, why not? 

“It's agreed then.” Lars clapped his hands. “Would you like to sit? On a train seat.” Lars pointed to seat behind her. 

“I'm wearing shorts under my skirt.” She gave Lars two thumbs up, like all was good. Thomas shook his head, unable to stop the smiling from forming on her lips. She was an odd girl, but he couldn't stop himself from liking her. At least a little bit. 

“Want to see my wand?” She asked Lars, already onto the next subject, she was already pulling her wand out from her robe. The wand was big, rich chestnut brown with a dark rainbow stripe down the middle. It had a large knot in the middle, that makes the wand tilt off center. 

“What an interesting colour.” Lars pulled out his own from his robe. 

“I know! He said it was the only one he made from that strange rainbow apple wood.” She placed her wand away, clapping when she saw Lars shimmer silver under his hand. “Pretty!” She turned towards Thomas. He pulled out his pale, red streak wood wand from its holster on his hip. 

“Wow! A wand holster!” She sprung to her knees and lifted his robe for a better look. Thomas held his wand above his head. Looking to Lars for help. His shoulder were shaking in silent laughter, and that made him no help. 

“Your wand has a jewel!” She turned to look up at him. Uncomfortable with the closeness, Thomas turned away before answering. 

“Um, yes. I like it myself.” Thomas continued his useless plea to Lars. It only seemed to make his laughter worse. A small noise escaping Lars twisting lips. 

“Something from the trolley dears?” An older voice called out from the hall. 

“Me!” She dashed out the door, braids whipping Thomas's nose with her speed. Slumping with relieve. Thomas once again learned how much he valued his personal space. Things were different with the O'Sullivan's, Thomas couldn't explain it, but other people? No way he wanted them that close. 

“You okay?” Lars laughed outright. “She's a whirlwind that one.” 

“Fine.” Thomas said putting his wand away into its holster. 

“No thanks to you.” Lars shrugged, not looking at all bothered by it. 

“Here.” The girl came back in and dumping her goods in the free train seat. Turning around she placed her hands on her hips. “I can be a bit much at times — my father said I should warn the friend I make.” Waving a hand to the piles of colourful snacks she continued. “I forgot, so I'll share these instead.” 

“Thank you.” Lars smiled, standing to offer his hand. “I'm Lars O'Sullivan.” 

“I'm Pipa — Pipa Jones.” Pipa shook Lars's hand, before turning to Thomas. 

“I'm Thomas Cloverleigh.” Thomas nodded, a move he saw the Old Man pull off a few times. It seemed save him, as she nodded back. 

“You're not related?” Pipa asked. 

“I'm adopted.” Thomas shook his head. Explaining his situation in the simplest fashion. Pipa nodded not paying it any further attention to it. Like it was no big deal, and really? It wasn't. 

“What's your name?” Pip turned to the blond boy by the window. 

“Bernard Malfoy.” He stood with an adult grace and offered Pipa a small bow. Before sitting once again. 

“Let's all be friends, Bernard!” Pipa smiled and tackled Bernard into a hug. Thomas approved. Better Bernard than him. After that the four of them sat around. Not speaking of anything much. Thomas freaked out and hid behind Lars when the chocolate frog was released. Pipa gathered and banned the frogs to the train hallway. 

Making Thomas feel much better around her. If a girl can save him from a frog, Thomas didn't care if it was candy frog. Then she was alright in his books. Bernard still looked like the weight of the world was sitting on him, but Lars managed to pull a smile from him. Somehow. Thomas missed how he managed that. Pipa took off to gather her bag she had left in the other room. Then the three of them waited out the rush and left the train together. 

“First Years!” A man twice the width of any adult Thomas had seen called out. Wearing an elegant robe, over which he wears a short vest. The whole outfit was grey and rich red. Wine red hair that flied around his shoulders. Making a striking image in Thomas mind. One of knights he read about in his old sonnets. He could see the man wielding a sword over a wand. 

“Come on Thomas.” Lars took Thomas's hand. Following the man who was now holding a lantern. Thomas, Lars, Pipa, and surprising Thomas — Bernard. Stuck together while following the man down a winding dark path. The night was brisk, but Thomas liked it. Somehow the whole thing felt more magical. With this air of mystery surrounding them. 

They piled into boats, mere slips of wood that sat four per ride. They went together, and glided across the water. Thomas looked into the water's depth not at all fazed by the seeming endless depth. Instead, he felt a pull, like something was calling him from below. 

“Thomas.” Bernard pulled him back, to sit on the seat. Thomas didn't know he was leaning on the boats edge.

“Ah, thank you?” Thomas said. Feeling disappointed that he couldn't figure out what was calling him before they passed. 

“No problem.” Bernard said his face pale and shaking. The boat ride didn't seem to be sitting well with him. 

“I'm sorry.” Bernard rubbed his hand together while managing to look him in the eye while he shook. 

“For what?” Thomas couldn't image why Bernard offered him an apology. 

“For judging you.” Bernard said looking him in the eyes for the first time. “I know what that is like, and it was wrong of me.” 

“That wasn't judging.” Thomas shook his head, to him judging was trying to hurt who you hated or feared. What Bernard felt he did? Thomas's couldn't begin to guess. 

“It was to him Thomas.” Lars's voice came out gentle as the surrounding water. “Accept the apology.” 

“It's fine Bernard.” Hoping that was okay, because no one ever apologized to Thomas before. He wasn't sure on the proper response. 

“Thank you Thomas.” Bernard paled, and then turned to look at Pipa. His eyes turned wide and looked like he was surprise she was there.

“What?” Pipa said looking at Bernard with a tilted head. 

“A woman on a boat.” Bernard paled to white, “Surly this vessel will fail.” 

“You think of me as a woman?” Pipa blushed beet-red in the glow of the boats lamp. Not at all insulated by Bernard's words. “I don't think I'm old enough.” 

“I don't think this counts as a vessel.” Thomas frowned at the small boat. 

“This year is going to be great.” Lars said with a laugh. Thomas watched Lars laugh, a big smile on his face. A smile formed on his own face, Lars looked like he was having fun, and that was was enough to make Thomas happy. 

“Bloody hell.” Thomas whispered as their “vessel” parted a green vine curtain. A great castle, striped from the pages of Thomas favourite books. Appeared before his eyes. The tiny lights of other boats and students came around them, but their interest pales before the stones towering before them. 

“Language.” Lars said admiring the view from his seat, while sounding like his father. 

“This is the best year of my life!” Pipa shouted shaking the boat when she stood up and swung her arms into the air. 

“Down we go.” Bernard slid off his seat, and hunched himself onto the boats floor. 

“And to think it has only just begun.” Lars said to Pipa moving to stand up beside. Both of them staring out at the castle. Letting her grab him into a side hug. Thomas looked down at Bernard, and wondered if he was even going to make it to land, let alone the start of the school year.


	9. Sorted

“There yours now Professor Walker.” His red hair swayed when he gave the Professor a short bow. Professor Walker was a tired looking man with his hair shined and slicked back with wax — sighed. Looking at all them with dead brown eyes. What struck Thomas the most was his missing left ear lobe. What in the world happened to it? 

“Thank you Asad.” Turning with another sigh, he disappeared into the large wood doors. Leaving his voice behind him.“Follow me.” 

“Good luck.” Asad said to them, nodding to them and disappearing into the dark of the school grounds. Thomas followed Lars and walked with the other first years in a river of back flowing robes. Flagstone floors felt hard under Thomas's feet. Flaming torches lighting the halls did little to stop the chill crawling up his ups. Shivering Thomas looked around in awe. He was in a castle, a real life working castle! 

“Welcome to Hogwarts budding witches and wizards.” Professor Walker stopped the at the top of a set of stairs. Turning his brown robes flared around him, and his wide brim hat creating a shadow on his face. 

“While you are here. Hogwarts will be your second home.” Folding his arms across his chest he continued. “Your house will be like your family. Us professors will be your guardians, watching over you as you grow.” “Like all families we have our rules. Following them will award you points.” His head nodded when he spoke, Thomas imagine he could nod off to sleep at any time. 

“Points get automatically collected in giant hourglasses. They're set in niches along one wall in a corner of the entrance hall record the points for all to see. Gryffindor’s has rubies for points. Ravenclaw’s with sapphires, Hufflepuff’s with diamonds, and Slytherin’s with emeralds.” Professor Walker's eyes narrowed. Thomas saw him glare a hole into some whispering students. “These precious stones are under guard of powerful spells.” 

“What is given can be taken away too.” The whispering in front of the professor stopped, and he went back to his sleepy demeanour. “Points accumulate over the course of the school year. At the end of which a House Cup is awarded to the house with the most. A prize cherished by all houses.” 

“I am Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin House and your Transfiguration Professor. You may call me Professor Walker.” Heaving a sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck. “I'll be right back for you. Try not to burn down the stairs.” He slid into the door and disappeared inside it. 

“First years!” A zipping of cold came whirling overhead. Thomas looked up and saw a man who looked like an old, but poor court jester. His clothes were all patched up, right down to the three bells hat. Swirling around cackling as he pleased. Thomas could see right through him! A shimmering white spectre, right from the pages of a famous poet. 

“Nice,” Thomas whispered thinking of one of his favourite poems. More amazed than scared, Thomas wondering what guilt kept the jester's soul lingering. 

“There's one for each house too.” Lars mummer-ed to him from his side. Thomas's look at him, surprised. Did they keep ghosts here on purpose? Or did witches and wizards turned into ghosts more often after death? 

“He's Peeves — a poltergeist not a ghost.” Bernard whispered. His eyes not leaving the spinning spectre. 

“What's the difference?” Pipa asked, when the ghost, or poltergeist came up and behind Pipa and tugged on her hair. 

“Ow!” Pipa swatted at him but her hands went right through, and Pipa shivered so hard. Thomas swore he saw her lips flicker blue. 

“What does it matter what I am to you little firsty year?” He blew a raspberry at her. 

“Leave her alone.” Lars spoke up standing for Pipa. Peeves turned and stared right at Thomas, and Thomas learned that even a ghost could turn pale. 

“Eek!” He screamed and turned into thin air. Thomas frowned, did he scare a ghost off? With his face or...? Thomas reached up to check if his ears were still covered. 

“Are you okay Pipa?” Lars asked, tucking Pipa's hair back around her shoulders. 

“I'm fine.” Pipa rubbed her arms. “Cold though.” 

“I thought only the Bloody Baron could scare off Peeve's.” Bernard muttered. Head dipped in thought. “He's scared of vampire or blood?” Bernard looked at Thomas his finger tapping on his lip. 

“Welcome first years!” Another clear floating man came into view. He was heavy man with a happy chubby smile on his transparent face. 

“Fat Friar!” A girl squealed from the bottom of the stairs. 

“I hope to see you in Hufflepuff.” He waved at her and went straight into the room beyond the wall, by going through the wall. 

“Nearly Headless!” Another ghost came in grabbing everyone's attention. Much more regal looking than the last. 

“He prefers Sir Nickolas.” Thomas overheard the slap someone received. His eyes were on the next ghost travelling overhead and into the next room. Curious if it was a ghost reactions would be the same as Peeve's. 

“Thank you, young witch.” He smiled and continued on with a sad thin female travelling a few feet behind him. She didn't a word, and no one pointed out who she was. Another man came through, his body wrapped in chains and his shirt covered in blood. They all ignored Thomas, on purpose? Thomas couldn't be sure, but non of them screamed at him which was better for him. 

“That's the Bloody Baron.” Bernard said, responding to Thomas interest in the ghost.“He looks after Slytherin’s house.” 

“Who was the one before him?” Pipa asked Bernard who seemed knowledgeable on the subject of ghosts. 

“Helena, Ravenclaw house.” Bernard shook his head his eyes looked watery. “She's had it rough in life and death.” 

“I heard there was a vampire this year.” Thomas turned to see a pair of judgmental green eyes with black mop of hair. His hands tucked in his pockets, but he reminded Thomas a bit of John. Who Thomas knew both hated feared him, and like to take that out on him. 

“M mm,” Thomas nodded and didn't hide it, not like he could anyway. Bernard's reaction to him on the train told him that word about what he was out already. Thomas tucked his hands into his sleeve robes, hiding their shaking. Hoping that things didn't go beyond words. Thomas wanted a peaceful school year. 

“I heard there would be a Potter attending school this year.” Lars came up beside Thomas, his relaxed state made Thomas feel more at ease. 

“Irish?” A tanned blue-eyed boy with long brown hair tied at his nape asked Lars. 

“The brogue gives me away every time.” Lars flashed the boy a smile. 

“Pale skin, dark eyes and under that hair I bet there's pointed ears.” His lips curled, “It's hard to believe they let a magical beast into this school. No matter how human it looks.” 

“Daniel, you shouldn't do this.” A small girl with striking similarities to the boy beside her. Her hair curly red, and her faced freckled, but the eyes. Were identical. 

“Let me deal with this Emma.” He shoved her tugging hand off his sleeve. 

“Should you be hanging around a vampire?” The green-eyed boy, Daniel asked. Thomas twitched, demon or vampire. It seemed like his treatment would remain the same with most people. “How can you tell if you're a friend or...” Daniel dragged out his words starring Thomas down. Thomas resisted the urge to roll his eyes, the stare wasn't that bad. It would take a few more years before it could make him shake...any more than he already was. “A midnight snack.” Emma beside him gasped, and the long haired boy shook his head. 

“I have to go.” Emma said, “Sorry.” Shaking her head and turned to go up the stairs. Thomas didn't get a chance to come up with a response before Pipa stormed in front of him. 

“Hey!” Pipa marched in front poking her finger right in the boys face. “He doesn't bite people.” 

“How would you know?” He sneered, actually curled his lip and sneered at Pipa. Thomas frowned not liking that at all. 

“I asked.” Pipa stomped her foot, “I learned about people before I judge them you jerk!” 

“Didn't you judge us?” The long hair kid asked his eyebrow lifted. Only to be ignored by both, Pipa and his friend. 

“Didn't you come over here to start something?” Pipa countered, turning her finger and shook it at him. “You should feel ashamed. Bad boy!” Pipa spat, “Bad.” Pipa was treating them like a dog? Thomas's lips twitched, it was a comical sight. Thomas heard the light cuffing of Lars's held back laughter. Leaving him unsure how to stop it or if he should at all. Pipa looked like she had it. 

“I came over because I saw Malfoy.” His green eyes narrowed at Bernard whose face looked blank. “He would hang out with the vampire.” He turned his green eyes at Thomas. “You want to fix the image of vampires? Don't hang out with a Malfoy.” 

“!” Thomas didn't need to know the reason behind the way he said Bernard's last name. He only needed to see the hurt flicker across Bernard's paling face. 

“I'm Daniel, Daniel Potter.” Daniel pulled his hands out of his pockets. Holding one out to Thomas. 

“If you want to change your image. We're your best bet.” Thomas looked at his hand, and at Daniel's face. Daniel looked confident and cool. In his eyes though, all Thomas saw was a reflection of the people at the orphanage. A little fearful, with a strong interest in him, but for nothing he would enjoy. Even if Thomas was wrong, he couldn't shake the feeling. 

Thomas looked at Bernard who was edging back into the growing crowd around him. Already accepting that Thomas would abandon him. Without a second thought Thomas reached out. Grabbing not Daniel's hand but Bernard's arm. He had no intention of becoming some vampire poster boy. Thomas was more interested in learning magic, and making real friends. Like Lars. 

“Stay.” Thomas said. Bernard may have been scared or at least weary of him at first, maybe even now. Thomas couldn't say, he didn't have Lars's way with people. Bernard tried at least. He said he was sorry and he was trying. Bernard stayed with them on the train, and the boat. Despite thinking Pipa would sink it. Thinking back Bernard could have left at any time, but he didn't and that had to mean something. 

“I already found my best bet.” Thomas's hand shook, but he turned and faced Daniel. “Right here.” Thomas's motion not to Bernard but Pipa too. 

“I couldn't agree more.” Lars place a hand on his shoulder. Thomas turned and received a smile. Lars had a way of helping Thomas feel more confident. “Thanks for the offer.” Lars declined Daniels hand to, and it fell down to his side. 

“Your mistake.” Daniel turned with a tsk falling off his tongue. The student parting the way for him and his friend to go though. 

“Bill Weasley. See you around.” Bill nodded and followed his friend. Everyone turned back into their groups whispering. Taking sideways glances at Thomas's group. 

“You rejected a Potter — for me?” Bernard's mouth opened a few times before his used his hand to cover it. “You'll regret that you know.” Bernard whispered it, but Thomas could see the edges of a smile around Bernard's hand. 

“He is a Potter, and his friends are all descendant of the holy trio.” Pipa brought up. Thomas shrugged and looked at Lars who also shrugged. 

“So?” Thomas asked, Pipa grabbed her chest mouth dropping in shock. 

“So — they're descendant's of heroes. Loved by all.” Pipa shook her head. “We made, about the whole school first years group hate us.” Pipa whispered looking around the group. Not looking bothered by the idea. 

“More room for us?” Thomas looked around not seeing a big problem yet. If they avoided them, then Thomas would have fewer people to deal with. 

“We have each other.” Lars swung an arm around Thomas's neck. “No matter what our house.” Thomas leaned into Lars shoulder and returned his hug. 

“Me too!” Pipa grabbed poor Bernard by the arm and forced him into the hug. “Mates for life!” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Lars laughed and patted Pipa's head. Thomas looked at Bernard and smiled. Bernard's eyes went wide, he wasn't expecting the hug. 

“You'll get use to the hugs.” Thomas offered his advice, if he got use to them, then surly Bernard could too. 

“Yes.” Bernard smile, and Thomas couldn't help but think that Bernard was a bit cute when he smiled. 

“First years this way!” Professor Walker's voice yelled, sounding as tired yelling as he went on speaking. 

“It is time to get sorted!” Thomas shook and looked up at Lars. He nodded, they had a plan; for the shake of a future that Lars couldn't see. Thomas had to be strong. Trembling hard, Thomas moved forward with the group. Stepping into a great hall. They were flanked with long wooden tables. That Thomas couldn't even take a moment to appreciate. His nerves were dancing to hard inside him. 

“Look Thomas the ceiling!” Pip tugged on his robe and pointed up. Thomas looked to see and night sky with candles for stars. It was a beautiful sight. 

“Wow,” Thomas whispered. Pipa tugged and smiled at him, giving him a thumbs up. Up ahead was a single three leg wooden stool. With a limp and tattered hat on its circle seat. Thomas knew from his talks with Lars. His parents too, who were amazing at gathering information. Without it being a school they themselves never attended, they knew a lot. That worn and tattered grey fabric was nothing else, but the Sorting Hat. 

Once all the students got lined up and faced the hat did it come alive. Rising up it to in a breath, it folds and wrinkles forming into dark eyes. It's opening the fold that created its mouth and started to sing in a rough and tumble voice. 

“Times will always change,   
But you can always count on me,   
To remain the same.   
Into your houses I will arrange. 

For I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat!   
I may not be the best looking chap,   
But let not your hearts get lost in its appall;   
For inside I top them all! 

Inside your head, I see it clear.   
The vibrations of your heart and soul,   
That's the ability of the Sorting Hat, see.   
That's how I tell — where you ought to be. 

In Gryffindor, oh Gryffindor.   
To be here, you must have a brave heart,   
Wavering not with your daring and nerve.   
But don't forgot — chivalry also sets Gryffindor's apart 

Hufflepuff, Devote Hufflepuff   
You work hard and play hard,   
Your souls are loyal as they're true.   
Use your patience to see who you should regard. 

Ravenclaw, Earnest Ravenclaw   
If learning is what makes your heart tick,   
Then in this year you'll be thrilled to find;   
You'll learn more by accepting teachings of every-kind. 

Slytherin, Dear Slytherin   
In your cunning you are misjudged,   
Laying in your hearts are many means,   
If you don't let the past intervene. 

It's an amazing time to be alive!   
The world is yours to own!   
So come on up, and sit on down,   
And place this Sorting Hat on your crown!”

Thomas joined the others in clapping for the song. Suffering from tunnel vision, Thomas didn't see anyone else in the packed room. Thomas focused on that hat, and what he had to do. It's not because he believed in Lars's visions, but because he believed in Lars himself, and wanted to help. Professor Walker came up to stand beside the stool, a large scroll unrolling in his hands. He began the most nerve wracking part of all. Name-calling, and c's was before s's. Lars was counting on him to speak up to the hat. 

“Psto 1464” Tripping over his own robe, the young boy stumbled forward. Blushing from the tip of his glasses to the tips of his ears. He sat on the stool shaking so hard the stool shake along with him. Thomas felt a bit bad for him. 

“Slytherin!” Psto was out of the seat and had the hat off his head before Professor could blink. He ran to the Slytherin table like he was being chased. Was he? Thomas shook his head, and sighed in relieve alongside him when he sat down. At least he made it there. 

“Megan Albert.” Professor Walker voice said in a sigh. With twin tails trailing behind her a blind girl ran up to the stool. Professor Walker lifted the hat and placed it on her head when she sat down. 

“Hufflepuff!” Sorting Hat took no time in placing the cheerful girl into her house. Thomas chest tightened at the fast pace of the decisions. The next several names were a blur. 

“Thomas Cloverleigh.” Professor Walker called out. Thomas looked at Lars. His eyes swirled different shades, and he gave him a thin smile. Lars was nerves too then. Thomas took a long breath, and walked in the silent stretch between him and the hat. The stares didn't bother him, but disappointing Lars. That would kill him. 

“You'll be okay.” Thomas looked up surprised at Professor Walker's encouragement. He nodded at him, grateful for the small act of kindness. He sat on the stool, holding onto it's sides until he felt the wood dig into his short nails. When the hat fell on his hat, the rim shaded his eyes and made his ear tips itch. 

“M mm,” The hat shivered on his head like when he spoke. Thomas shook, and took in some quick breaths and ready himself for battle. “My first vampire.” Thomas wasn't sure if the hat was talking out loud or in his head, so he whispered his desires. 

“Mr. Sorting Hat.” Thomas whispered. Deciding to polite first. “I need to be in Gryffindor, please.” Thomas braced himself, and waited. 

“Slytherin would be a better fit for you.” The Sorting Hat said after some pause. “It would help grow your natural nature, bringing you to your greatest self.” 

“I know, but...” Thomas whispered, picturing the sick and scared look on Lars's face when he woke up from that vision. “I need to be in Gryffindor.” Thomas said firmly. “Please Mr. Sorting Hat.” Thomas fingers hurt from clutching at the stool. “Please.” 

“Troublesome ones pop up every generation.” Thomas felt the hat shift on his head in a sigh. “Fine then.” 

“Thank you.” Thomas whispered. Slumping on the stool in relieve. 

“Gryffindor!” The Sorting Hat shouted. Thomas sighed rising a hand to his chest in relieve. Thomas looked at Lars, who opening smiled and clapped the loudest out of all the students. Walking on shaking legs. Thomas got a rather warm welcome from the other Gryffindor students. Sitting at an empty table, Thomas waited to see what would happen to his new friends. A few names later Pipa's turn came up. 

“Gryffindor!” The Sorting Hat shouted without even settling on her head. People around Thomas clapped. Thomas got tackled off the tables bench seating by Pipa's hug. Laughing some older students helped Thomas and Pipa up to watch the rest of them get sorted. When Bernard turn came, the Slytherin students perked up and started to whisper. 

Bernard walked up slow, if Psto wanted out of (there) than Bernard was the opposite. The hat landed on Bernard head he looked sick. Thomas felt bad for him. On the train he worried about Slytherin house if Thomas remembered right. The Sorting Hat stayed quiet for a long time. So long Professor Walker moved his feet around, looking down at Bernard and the Sorting Hat. 

“Gryffindor!” The room exploded in noise. Slytherin’s house yelled in denial, other houses become a blur of whispers. Bernard face remained pale, and he wobbled but made his way to Thomas and Pipa. Thomas stood up and ran to Bernard's side who leaned on him right away. Between him and Pipa they got him to sit on the bench at their table. 

“Lars O'Sullivan,” Professor Walker continued on ignoring the ruckus. Thomas looked on as Lars walked up in a slow easy stride, and had the Sorting Hat placed on his head. Withing seconds Thomas got his answer. 

“Slytherin!” The Sorting Hat called out. Lars turned and winked at Thomas. Thomas clapped so hard his hands stung. They did it. Thomas sighed that would be the end of it. Thomas thought watching Lars walked and get welcome by the Slytherin house. Other names like Potter, Weasley and were soon called. Everyone got excited, but Thomas didn't care. Him, and Pipa worked on getting Bernard to get to remember how to breath. 

“I have a few words to say before we begin our new year. First big welcome to the new faces I see this year.” An older man, small round and with a curling black and white beard. He wore a gentle swirl of pale blues and greens. Stood up from the long table that Thomas just noticed. The chair behind the man detailed in gold, Thomas thought he must be a very important man. 

“He's the Headmaster, Professor Longbottom.” Bernard used his arms on the table to steady himself. Pipa still rubbed his back, keeping a close eye on the still sick looking Bernard. 

“Thanks” Thomas whispered. Getting a small nod when they turned back to the Headmaster's speech. Thomas found his voice soft and very soothing to listen to. 

“We are all born solitary, yet after the moment we first open our eyes.” He raised his hands and a brilliant ball of light appeared. Shattering into a colourful fading twinkle of rainbow coloured chains. “Chains — likes rainbows — of interactivity are formed.” Closing his hands the chains vanished. 

“Makeshift chains, often desperate, sometimes ridiculous, always strange.” His beard opened up into a brilliant smile. “It is my wish you take these chains. Every social action as an optimistic chance. An opportunity between the strange and the known.” 

“Not only is the Universe stranger than we think, it is stranger, and more wonderful than we can ever imagine.” Clapping his hands. Some students that Thomas hadn't notice earlier came from the sides. All holding giant toads! 

“!” Thomas shook in horror at not only the sight of the giant bumpy croaking horrors. It was also the fact that people were not only touching them but holding them too! 

“Altogether now.” Professor Longbottom pulled his wand out waved it around like a baton. All the older students started to sing. 

“Hogwarts, Hogwarts,   
Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,   
Teach us something please,   
Whether we be old and bald   
Or young with scabby knees,   
Our heads could do with filling   
With some interesting stuff,   
For now they’re bare and full of air,   
Dead flies and bits of fluff,   
So teach us things worth knowing,   
Bring back what we’ve forgotten,   
Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,   
And learn until our brains all rot.” 

The students and frogs croaked in harmony. It was quick to turn it into the most horrible moments in Thomas's life. Professor Longbottom seemed into it. Closing his eyes and keeping up with even the slowest of students. 

“Ah!” Professor Longbottom opened his eyes. Looking satisfied, Thomas was glad the whole ordeal was done. “Now let the feast begin.” Waving his hands Thomas found the strong smells of food. Surrounding him and piles of food appearing out of nowhere. 

“There gone now.” Pipa said, Thomas assumed she meant the frogs or toads. Whatever they wanted to call them. He couldn't bring himself to look towards the head table. Who knows if one of the creatures escaped? The mere idea made the food before him look like unappetizing piles. The meal came and went quickly. 

Once the meal was over a small group of Students from all the house. Wearing badges on their chest gathered them together. Lars managed to give Thomas a quick hug and wink before they went their separate ways. Where Thomas went up, Lars went down. At least he had Bernard and Pipa. They walked with him, and watched with the same interests as they stopped in front of a portrait of the Fat Lady. According to Bernard was her real name. 

“Nicker Bonkers,” An serious student who lead them here said. The Fat Lady in the photo nodded and opened her frame. Showing a secret room. Entering with the rest Thomas looked around on his own. Ignoring the boring drawl of the badge student. The room gave off a warm vibe. It was a large round room, with cozy chairs, snug sofas. Round tables in several shades of red sat in front of a crackling, burning fire. A majestic landscape picture of a lion sat proudly above it, over a shelf stacked with dusty books and a trophy. It was a nice space that Thomas felt would be easy to live in. 

Following the boys to their wing. Thomas loved the large windows letting in moonlight in the round room. There is no need for ceiling lights and Thomas like the seating available by the window. With no need to sleep he could picture many of the upcoming nights there. Looking out onto the large, expansive view of the school grounds. 

Thomas and Bernard were given a wide berth. Thomas didn't mind and Bernard seemed to tired to be bothered. He helped Bernard organize his things by his four-poster bed. Thomas's things were all tucked inside his black storage ring. It didn't take long for everyone to fall asleep around Thomas. In the quiet of the night, Thomas spent his first night staring out the windows of the shared bedroom. Letting his mind wonder as the mist took hold of the grounds.


	10. Rough Starts

A fine yellow light started to chase away the night's mist. Thomas decided it was a good time to get up and stretch. Yesterday had its bumps, but Thomas felt the day went well. Standing he reached his arms over his head. Going to his bed, he shut the curtains on his bed to create a private place to change. Slipping out of his plain black robes he changed into his new house colours. 

Looking at the burgundy and gold stripes of his tie. Thomas's thoughts drifted to Lars. He would be wearing the silver and green of Slytherin today. He had mixed feeling on that. Hanging the tie around his neck, he flipped it around Like Uncle Liam showed him. He's happy that he could help Lars get what he wanted. What he needed. That vision he had scared him, he didn't like to see Lars in pain. 

“Haa,” Sighing he folded his white collar over the tie and smoothed it down. Forming an even know that he pushed up to his neck. Honestly, he regretted no having the courage to face Lars's vision, and demand to be in the same house has him. 

“ Haa,” Another sigh slipped out, while he slipped on his robe. Thomas wasn't there, yet. 

“One day at a time.” Thomas whispered to himself. Walking pass the other students still tuck into their beds. He spared a glance at his dorm neighbour, Bernard. His face was a flush and comfortable, much better than yesterday. Sorting was a stressful event. Today classes would begin, and Potions would be first; and that was something to look forward too. Walking down the stairs, he remembered that all classes were shared with Slytherin. Thomas would get to hang out with Lars all day. In a class. Like a normal kid. 

“Today is going to be a good day.” Thomas nodded, and turned to the common room. Wanting to check it out, since it would be a space where he would come to spend most of his time. The room was warm, and bright as it was last night. Looking around Thomas couldn't find any reason to hate the room. 

“What's that?” Thomas's eyes flicker to a black shape in front of the fireplace. Was that there last night? Curiosity brought him closer to it. Within a few steps Thomas figured out what it was. Running the last foot. He pushed the big chair in front of the fireplace out of his way. Kneeling he turned the black lump over. It was a student. 

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked, knowing that they, she was not. Under his hands it felt like he was touching a lump of ice. Her freckle face went beyond any shade Thomas had ever seen on a human. She was white, a horrible shade that even her freckles had succumbed too. Her brilliant red hair only made the colour more painful to bare. 

“Emma?” Thomas racked his head, last night with that boy, there was a girl with freckles. Was this her? “Emma!” Thomas put his hand under her nose, air brushed his fingers. 

“She's breathing.” Thomas's heart skipped a beat, her chest wasn't raising, but she was breathing. “I need help.” Thomas hated this feeling of not being able to help someone right in front of him. Thomas looked around, who could he get to help? It's not like he could call on a house elf like he did with Lars. 

“Her brother.” Thomas shot up, and ran to the stairs. This could be some sort of medical condition. Something her brother could fix. Taking the stairs two at a time, Thomas leapt up the stairs in record speed. He reached the landing he released he didn't know which bed was her brothers. Looking around he looked around for... Daniel! His name popped into Thomas's head. Unable to see the judgmental black mop of hair, Thomas only had one option. 

“Daniel!” Thomas shouted, going from bed to bed, he yelled again. “Daniel wake up!” Students were stirring, and some were glaring daggers as Thomas passed them by. 

“What do you want!” A voice yelled, finally green slits starred at him from one of the beds. Daniel recognized the judgmental stare the moment he received it. 

“It's your sister!” Thomas pulled the boy out of bed, not giving a wit for his undressed state. “Hurry she's down stairs in the common room!” Thomas dragged the boy to the stairs, before his own feet could carry him. Bernard and Daniel's friend, were among the many that followed. 

“This better be good-” Daniel shot off, then his face paled when he saw the sight before him. “Emma!” He ran like Thomas did earlier. Shaking his sister's shoulders. “Emma what did he do to you?” He? Thomas frowned, surly he wasn't going to? “What did you do to her?” Daniel turned his angry wet eyes at Thomas. 

“I did nothing!” Thomas denied, shaking his head, didn't he have better things to do than to blame him? 

“I came down here to check out the room and found her there.” Thomas said his bit. There wasn't much to say. 

“Did you come to me after you regretting sucking her dry?” Daniel stood up, and rushed to plant himself right in Thomas's face. 

“You vampire!” His green eyes were fill with a dark anger, and Thomas chest sat in a lump. Daniel believed what he said was the truth. It would be hard to change his mind, and the whispers turning around him only let Thomas know. That like before, there was no-one at his side. 

“I don't bite people.” Thomas' ground out. Trying to stand up for himself, to have some pride in himself. A lesson he had come to feel with his time with the O'Sullivan's. He wished that Lars was here, but he was someone else in the castle. Thomas had to, and could handle this himself. 

“Check her neck if you don't believe me.” Thomas said starring into those hate filled eyes, until it was Daniel and not him that turned away. 

“There is nothing on her neck Daniel.” The long hair boy, Bill said. He had someone gotten to Emma's side and was checking her over. 

“We should get her to the nurse's office.” The shouting attracted girls from the other dorm. Thomas could feel the weight of their added stares. 

“I should drive a stake in this blighters' heart!” Daniel turned like a beast lifting Thomas off his feet and rushing him back into the crowed. Where they tripped and tumbled until Daniel fell on top of Thomas. His fist raised, Thomas saw the tears stream down his face. “What did you do?!” He demanded to know. 

“Get off of him!” Hands pulled Daniel off of Thomas, and Bernard stood in front of him. 

“You should be getting your sister help Potter.” Bernard looked like a cold tower starring Daniel down. Thomas was gob smack, stunned into silence. Also, impressed, he didn't judge Bernard as someone who would do this, stand up for him that is. A sour feeling stuck in his throat, he had misjudged Bernard, and that made him no different from the people in front of him right now. 

“Instead you're blaming others for your faults. Don't want to let the heritage of yours down do you? Potter.” Thomas sat himself up with shaking legs. The room went dead quiet. Bernard had silence them all. 

“What is a Malfoy doing in Gryffindor?” Daniel asked backing up into not one but a couple of his friends. Each one starring holes into Bernard's head. 

“I would like to know what a coward is doing in Gryffindor.” Bernard's hands sat at the small of his back, folded with grace from the front, but behind him. Only Thomas could see the shaking of his hands. “If you're afraid of vampires. Go to Hufflepuff, I hear they accept everyone there. Even a black spot on the Potter name.” Bernard back quivered while he spoke, “Should be welcomed.” 

“You bast-” Daniel wiped the tears off his face, and with them gone. Only anger remain, Thomas shot to his feet. Ready to pull Bernard out of trouble if he went for them. 

“That's enough!” A wind billowed through the common room. A lean man wearing a kilt, and a long black robe with weird intricate geometric shapes on it enter the space. His blond hair was swept back. Navy stripes rushing through it Thomas was curious if it was a natural colour? 

“Everyone not involved. You better be getting ready for breakfast.” He raised his eyebrow and looked at the filled room. His voice was calm and even friendly. Thomas noticed that the older kids were already scattering from the room. “Or I'll have you clean my quidditch field.” His gold eyes flickered, “Without magic.” The crowed cleared out in a flash, and Pipa came flying out from behind the teacher in a flash of fuzzy pink? 

“Are you okay Thomas?” She ran around him, long floppy ears on her hoodie swaying as she checked him over. Thomas nodded, looking her over he was trying to figure out what she was wearing. 

“Good.” Pipa put a hand to her chest. “I ran to get a teacher as fast as I could.” 

“Thank you.” Thomas said, earning a smile from the tired Pipa. Thomas looked at Bernard, a bit worried; he seemed okay...but something felt off. 

“Potter, get you sister to the infirmary.” The Professor turned his head in a nod to the door. 

“But Professor!” Daniel waved a hand at Thomas his green eyes sparking. “What about him?” 

“Cloverleigh is my concern.” He waved his hand, “You should be take care of your sister.” 

“But!” Daniel edged towards Thomas. Looking like he wanted to roll Thomas to the floor again. “Or we can discuss you starting a fight on your first day of school?” He quirked a brow, with an easy smile on his face. 

“He does seem suspicious Professor.” Bill spoke up, looking at Thomas with a squinted gaze. 

“Thomas is a young vampire. He had no fangs to damage anyone.” He shook his head, “Now go or I'll have you join me for a cup of tea.” Smiling with a flash of teeth. That made Thomas shiver. There was no way that was normal tea he was offering. 

“Later Cloverleigh.” Daniel spat at him, carrying his sister with the help of Bill and a few other students. Watching them go, Thomas let out a breath. What a rough start to the day, Thomas thought looking up at the Professor. 

“Thank you for intervening Professor Barlow.” Bernard offered, giving Thomas the teacher's name. 

“Yes. Thank you.” Thomas added. Things were getting heated fast, and in a school of magic. Thomas was sure it would lead to more than a set of black eyes. 

“What happen here?” Professor Barlow tilted his head to Pipa. “Miss Jones was thin on details.” 

“I found her on the floor when I came down this morning.” Thomas said, shaking his head. “I have no idea what happen to her.” 

“What were you doing up so early?” Professor Barlow asked with a frown. 

“I don't sleep.” Thomas said, trying to keep everything simple. “I was up in the dorm all night.” Thomas added, “I swear Professor.” Looking up into Professor Barlow face. His eyes still looked at Thomas kindly, there wasn't any hatred in them yet. Thomas was hopeful. 

“Thomas is a good vampire, Professor!” Pipa pulled on the Professor's sleeve. “He would never do anything bad.” Pipa's strong believable in him...Thomas shook his head. Was to amazing for words, where did it come from? Thomas may never know. 

“Professor Barlow. I don't believe Thomas would act in such a manner either.” Bernard shook his head. “I believe he was just in the wrong place in the wrong time.” 

“You all are such good friends.” Professor Barlow smiled and patted Pipa on the head. “It's nice to see.” Thomas hid his dropped mouth behind his hand. Having people defend him, was a new feeling. One he only got with Lars. To have two more people do that, made him fill with a bubbly feeling; that he couldn't quite explain. 

“You won't be getting Thomas in trouble now, will you Professor?” Bernard asked, acting very adult in his conversation. Thomas wondered if Bernard was used to talking with adults more than people his own age. Not that Thomas was one who could say anything about that sort of thing. Seeing as his socializing before Lars was with adults. 

“Fighting is prohibited, but as magic was not used.” Professor Barlow sighed, “I let you off with a warning.” 

“Daniel didn't get a warning!” Pipa spoke up, “And I saw him all over Thomas!” 

“He'll get his warning later.” Professor Barlow said, his gold eyes spun in a ring when he looked at Thomas. 

“I don't believe that Thomas hurt Emma Potter, but not everyone will.” The hair on Thomas neck rose, as an eerie wind crept over him. The Professor's eyes shimmer in a light. What Thomas felt was awfully familiar to Lars when he had that vision. Did this mean? Thomas looked up at the Professor, his mind drifting to Lars's summer vision. 

“This is a rough road for you. Thomas Cloverleigh.” Professor Barlow's voice drifted over them. Making Bernard inhale a sharp breath inside him, and Pipa duck behind them with a quiver. Professor Barlow swelled with a glowing aura that was not visible to the naked eye. Thomas felt it in his heart, an instinct that screamed; that his words should be heard. “Even with those large changes will not affect that future.” 

“Professor?” Thomas reached a hand out, worried that when the energy sucked out of him. Like with Lars. 

“I'm fine Mr. Cloverleigh. My gift isn't as strong as Young O'Sullivan's.” Professor Barlow put a hand on his shoulder. “Please let him know what I said.” Thomas nodded. 

“Does this mean it will still come to pass?” Thomas asked to himself, worried that what they did would mean nothing. 

“There are many windows in a house Mr. Cloverleigh.” Professor Barlow smiled and patted his shoulder. “Opening one, can make an old house new again. Same goes for closing one.” Thomas nodded like he understood, Lars didn't talk like that, he wouldn't talk about it all. If it was a seer thing, Thomas would ask Lars about it later and get his answers. Thinking about visions and Lars, his chances didn't seem that good, but he could try. “I'll be here, if you or he should need me.” 

“Thanks, I'll let him know.” Thomas thought Lars might like the idea of someone else to talk too about his visions. Professor Barlow gave Thomas a lop-sided smile. 

“He already knows, but it doesn't hurt to remind him.” Professor Barlow straightened himself and, put a hand through his hair. “Now you three, get ready for breakfast. I'll see you for your flying lessons later today.” 

“Yes Professor.” Bernard nodded, his eyes darting to Thomas. Thomas looked away, he had forgotten they were their for a second. When his darting eyes caught Pipa's curious gaze, he looked down with a sigh. When the Professor left, Pipa wasted no time pouncing on Thomas. 

“What was all that about?” Pipa's eyes were wide with curiosity. 

“It's not my place to say.” Thomas clamped his lips shut, Lars could tell them only if he wanted too. Otherwise, no one would learn it from him. 

“Aww,” Pipa whined, but her attitude turned around fast. “I'll get Lars to spill later.” Pipa placed her hands on her hips. Bringing his attention to her pink fuzzy outfit. 

“Are you dressed like a rabbit?” Thomas asked, blinking a few times to see if he got it right. 

“Ah!” Pipa looked down with a squeal. “I need to change!” Running to the stairs Pipa turned her head. 

“Don't leave without me!” Her bunny tail flashing out of sight. 

“Bernard?” Thomas turned to Bernard, with the two of them finally alone. He wanted to thank him. “Thanks for sticking up for me.” 

“It was nothing.” Bernard turned away a pink line running across his nose. 

“It meant a lot to me.” Thomas pressed on, “You could have had an easier time. If you had left me there.” Thomas dragged it out into the silence of the room unsure on what more he could add. “Just... thanks.” 

“I know what it's like to be judged on what your are.” Bernard turned his head, and looked at Thomas. “Malfoy or Vampire. These traits don't make us who were are.” 

“No — they don't” Thomas agreed. “I felt like you push yourself there.” Thomas thought back to Bernard's shaking hands. “Are you…okay?” Thomas asked unsure if he was pushing where he didn't belong. 

“It's always like that with my family. Nothing new.” Bernard put out his hand, his eyes filled with shadows. Thomas knew there was more to it, but wouldn't push. 

“I feel like we could have got to a better start.” Thomas took the offered hand. Feeling a connection with Bernard that wasn't there earlier. 

“I'm Thomas. Part vampire and a bit anti-social.” Thomas smiled, being honest with himself and facing his vampire side straight on. Thomas felt a knot realizes from his chest, why deny what he couldn't change, and people already knew. It's not like he could hide it. He shook the hand with a firm strong grip. 

“I'm Bernard. Family failure and vegetarian.” Bernard smiled, but Thomas wondered; what exactly was a vegetarian? 

“Vegetarian?” Thomas asked, confused. 

“I don't eat meat.” Bernard said. Tucking his hands into his robes, looking at ease with him, for the first time since they meet yesterday. 

“Oh,” Thomas thought it was a shame, but if that was how it was then. “I can eat it for you.” Thomas favourite was always meat, the bloodier the better, of course, now he knew why. 

“Deal.” Bernard nodded, his shoulders slumping with a relieved sigh. Thomas titled his head, did Bernard expect a different reaction? 

“What deal?” Pipa came bouncing down in her school robes, her hair curling about her shoulder in waves. Bernard looked like he was in was a trace. Thomas worried that there was another seer in his mist, but without the swell of power. He put it down to Bernard being weird. 

“Bernard's meat is mine.” Thomas said ignoring Bernard stunned face. Unwilling to give up an ounce of the possible rare treat. “I think it's buffet style here.” Pipa wrinkled her noise, her hands busy in her hair, turning the waves into two plain braids on each side of her head. “We'll find out this morning.” 

“Gryffindor's colours suit you Pipa.” Thomas didn't mind saying it. The colours looked nice against her olive tanned skin. She looked cute, but the bunny outfit was imprinted in the depth of Thomas's mind. He thought Berry would like some like it, it was something else he could talk to Lars about. 

“I like the bunny outfit better.” Bernard muttered under his breath but Thomas's ears picked up on it. Pink suits her too, Thomas agreed without a word. 

“Thank you, Thomas.” Pipa beamed and twirled around in her knew grey skirt. “I like the bunny outfit better too, but it's against school rules.” Pipa whispered at Bernard. Humming while she flowed by him, Thomas watched poor Bernard light up red. 

“Let's go!” Pipa turned leading the charge to breakfast. Thomas could almost forgot the drama of the morning, with the idea of seeing Lars again in the front of his mind. After all, Emma was sure to be fine under the care of the school nurses.


	11. The Potion Master

The walk to breakfast was an interesting one. Many of the staircases leading up, also went down, then right and left. Made Thomas's head turn at every step, luckily Bernard had a good grasp on their location. Paintings were talking and moving along the walls. One even snickered when the staircases tried to move under Thomas's feet. 

Pipa was quick to tell him off, but it's hard to yell at target that could disappear at any moment. Travelling this castle was looking like a necessary group activity. Going solo Thomas wasn't sure if he would make it to his destination. If it wasn't paintings, it was the other students heading to breakfast, if Thomas wasn't getting bumped into. 

They were even doubling back to stare at Thomas. Many voiced there disappointed that Thomas's pointed ears hiding under his hair. Thomas was once again, grateful that his hair was long enough to hide it. Other whispers in the halls, and the curious eyes were not much of a bother to Thomas. It was like the orphanage but on a larger scale. Soon they would begin to ignored him, or, so he hoped. Bernard, and Pipa were a different a story. 

Bernard back was stiff and ram rod straight. Many turned away by his cold look in his honey coloured eyes. Pipa acted bubbly at first, which was typical Pipa. Then when her hellos went unanswered by their fellow Gryffindor's. She soon deflated, playing with her hair. 

They got to the dinning room where they got place into their houses last time. The doors opened up into a dead silence. Word had spread, it seemed. Thomas thought with a sigh, When Lars flagged Thomas down from the Slytherin table he was grateful. 

“If you guys want to.” Thomas decided to offer them a way out. Otherwise, Thomas felt that Bernard, and Pipa would be exhausted before the day began. “You can go to sit with Gryffindor,” Thomas pointed to the tables given Thomas a swarm of angry glares. “Make amends?” 

“They would have hated me one way or another.” Bernard shrugged his shoulders. Pipa shook her head tails swaying. 

“I rather stick with you guys.” Pipa said. “At least I know where I stand with you.” Pipa turned and glared at the Gryffindor tables. “Rather than judge someone on gossip!” Pipa said louder for the Gryffindor's to hear. 

“Are we allowed to sit here?” Bernard said walking with them to the Slytherin tables. 

“Given what I heard.” Lars said when they go to his table. “They would understand. He gave Thomas a one sided smile. “You managed to stir things up over there.” 

“Sorry.” Thomas hoped this had nothing to do with the vision he was trying to avoid, because if it was. He messed things up. 

“If I was going to suck someone dry. It wouldn't be a Potter.” A big round kid in glasses laughed with a trumpeting honk. “Make catch their stuck up.” 

“I can't bite people yet.” Thomas said, sitting down beside Lars. 

“You can bite me when you're older. I have a feeling your going to turn into a cutie.” A chubby girl with big blue eyes winked at him. 

“Thanks?” Thomas said in a question. 

“Welcome.” She blew him a kiss from her finger tips at him. 

“Thomas.” Lars pointed to the two across from them. “These are the Tinder twins. Ethan, and Victoria Tinder.” 

“I'm Ethan.” Leaned on the table towards Thomas pushing a tray filled with red berries. “Lars pulled these aside for you.” 

“I'm Ethan!” He blue eyes magnified by his glasses. Narrowed as much as they good at, Thomas paused; looking at the girl who laugh with a ho-ho sound. 

“But of course dear brother.” Victoria said laughing once again behind her hand. 

“They are playful pair.” Lars said. “I bunk next to Ethan.” Lars poured Thomas some juice. Thanking Lars Thomas took a deep drink, feeling refreshed. 

“Nice to meet you.” Thomas said. 

“Some of us more than others.” Victoria's eyes sparkled, and bite down onto the biggest breakfast bun Thomas ever seen. 

“I'm Bernard Malfoy.” Bernard sat stiff in his seat next to Victoria. “I hope that won't be a problem.” 

“I would never have a problem with a cutie like you.” Victoria pulled his arm in and hugged it. “I'll even share my bun with you.” Holding her bun out to him. Pipa had started up a conversation with Ethan who was showing of a white mouse. Giving Thomas a chance to speak one on one with Lars. 

“What happened?” Lars asked seeing the others busy as well. Thomas explained what happened, and passed on the teachers message. Lars sighed ans hook his head, but his stormy eyes looked clear. 

“I'm sorry.” Thomas finished off with an apology. Lars had switched houses to avoid trouble, and he started some instead. He felt bad for disappointing Lars — who he was trying harder to be more like. 

“Things happened, but not as I saw them.” Lars muttered to himself, then raised his head to star at Thomas. “Which is good.” Placing a hand on his shoulder Lars gave him a fierce rub. “Everything is okay.” 

“What about Professor Barlow's house?” Thomas asked, still not sure what that all had meant. 

“His house?” Lars dropped his hand with a laugh. “He was trying to say. That things can change. An old house can smell good or bad, depending on the windows.” A light clicked in Thomas head. 

“Like a drunk bar patron!” Thomas tapped his fist into his palm. Drunks could smell good or bad. It all depended on where you stood, and if the bar door sat opened. 

“Yes.” Lars said his accent thickening with his dry drawl. “Like that.” 

“You've worked at a bar?” Pipa asked, a white mouse now on her head. Both has there ears pricked in his direction. 

“Aren't you underage?” Bernard grunted. Pushing a pushing Victoria off his side, who was not taking the hint. 

“That's amazing darling!” Victoria said smiling with her face squished under Bernard's hand. “You have to whip me up a little something.” 

“Victoria!” Ethan said in a tone that Victoria ignored. 

“I never serve someone underage.” Thomas said, and he was serious, whenever he got to bar tend. Thomas took the job with great ride. Mixing things together, creating something new for someone else to enjoy. Was a precious thing to Thomas, but alcohol came with responsibilities. Handling that was a task he took great pride in. 

“I can make you Hair Potion, if you get me the ingredients.” Thomas offered seeing her eyes tear up. 

“Hair potions!” Victoria perked up letting Bernard go while he was pulling. Leaving him to fall right of the table's bench. 

“You can make potions already?” Bernard asked picking himself up off the floor. Dusty himself off, he looked at Victoria with a sigh. Before getting himself some breakfast. 

“Thomas is a natural.” Lars slung an arm around Thomas shoulders. Passing him a berry to eat. Thomas took it with a nod of thanks. Popping it in his mouth to munch. “He made some for my mother over the holidays.” 

“I did burn a hole in the floor.” Thomas could still smell the burning wood. The waste of wood made him shiver even now. 

“Once!” Lars laughed, passing him another berry. “You're going to be Hogwarts potions star.” Thomas shook his head, but a part of him did like the idea. Being that good at something couldn't be a bad thing, right. “I see a smile Thomas.” Lars pulled him in for a hug, and whispered into his ear. “Don't worry about Potter. I'll deal with him.” 

“Okay.” Thomas said, “Nothing to bad.” Pulling back Lars offered him a brilliant smile. One that promised many things, and non of them good. 

“What do you think I would do?” Lars kept on smiling, and Thomas worry levels sky rocket. 

“I don't know.” Thomas shook his head. “Keep in nice.” Thomas picked up a pastry he'd seen Lars eat at home, and passed it to him. “Or I'll tell Aunt Merry.” 

“Ohhh~” Victoria's cooed at them. Hands cuddle her face as she squealed. “I see what's going on here.” 

“I don't.” Ethan gr umped. 

“Never you mind.” Victoria shot her brother a look. “I support you Thomas.” Victoria smiled at him. “You can come and talk to me, anytime, about anything.” Victoria stressed the anything part. 

“Thank you.” Thomas felt touched, the warm feeling in his chest telling him that she meant her words. “It nice to know there is nice people here in Hogwarts.” He was a bit worried about the Gryffindor thing, but things weren't turning out all bad. 

“I have Potter's number too.” Victoria starting laughing in that foo-fuuing way. Thomas thought that was a bit strange, but she was a nice girl. 

“Thomas please avoid this girl.” Bernard said looking a bit pale. 

“She's not what she seems.” Thomas tilted his head, and looked at Lars to see what he missed. Lars lips were twitching. 

“She's fine Thomas.” Lars said, wiping his face with her hand. 

“Hush you.” Bernard got slammed in the side by Victoria's elbow. “Thanks Lars.” Victoria's smiled sweet as can be at Lars. Who nodded his head. 

“I'll take a hair potion, but I don't know how to get the ingredients.” Pipa said, changing the conversation. 

“I could ask Aunt Merry?” Thomas turned and looked at Lars who nodded. 

“Great!” Pipa beamed. “I'll give you some money at lunch.” 

“Me too.” Ethan asked his heavy face flushed red behind his glasses. “It could help with my frizz.” His short blind hair was flying everywhere. 

“Me three!” Victoria called with her hand raised up. 

“Mother won't take your money, but if you all wrote her letters. She would love that.” Lars said, settling into his breakfast. Thomas took the opportunity to get Lars a drink, like he had done for him. Victoria cooed the whole time. Thomas spared her a glance, but settled on thinking she was a bit strange and stop question her actions. 

“It's a lunch date.” Bernard said, eyeing Veronica with a sideways glances. 

“What's our first class?” Pipa asked, letting the little white mouse travel up and down her arms. Thomas was disappointed to find out potions class wasn't first, but at least it was third. Right before lunch. Thomas couldn't wait! 

Together they travelled to the classroom. By then Gryffindor was given him, and by association; his other friends. A wide berth. Charms was taught by a terrifyingly robust women who was a Professor named Marshall. Thomas found it strange she was wearing not one hat but two. Neither went with the dusty pink robe she wore, but no one dared speak up to either. 

In class Thomas couldn't sit together with Lars, but with Bernard to sit with he wasn't alone. Professor Marshall, despite her odd, and rather scary height; was a kind teacher. Who talked things out thoroughly until everyone got it. By the end of class, everyone had gotten the hand of moving their wands in the correct manner. There were no spells, but also no homework. Leaving everyone feeling good about the class. 

Herbology was next. Thomas was happy to take a chance to go outside where the classes were held. Hogwarts, had amazing sets of greenhouses. The greenhouses were located behind the castle. To Thomas who spent much of his time basking outside. To avoid the Rows; it was a nice to free the cool breeze of the coming fall. 

Professor Frost was part frost giant, she told everyone straight off. Explaining her great height, and icy white skin. She wore a simple black and yellow robe with a pony-tail mo hawk, and as explain by Pipa — was aces. Thomas nodded, not sure what that might mean, but assumed it was good. Since it was coming from Pipa. Bernard looked thrilled to be there. His face lit up in the first free and happy smile he'd seen. He was also the only one to enjoy the class. 

Professor Frost carried on and on about every detail. Of what they would be learning that year, and though she paused to answer questions. That to drag on. Bernard was the only one to raise his hand every time. By the end of class Thomas had counted every crack in the greenhouse windows. There was thirty-two, maybe thirty-three, Thomas could tell if the last one was dirt or a crack. For homework, they had to pick a plant to raise throughout the year. 

Thomas was a bit worried about that, but Bernard assured him he had a perfect plant for a potion lover like himself. During there fifteen-minute break. Thomas had settled on raising a mandrake, along with the others. They had many uses for potion making, and Bernard said he had experience raising them. Settling everyone opinion on the matter. Thomas's wanted to get to the next class. It was potions, and Thomas was sure it was going to be his favourite one. 

Potions were all the way down in the dungeon, because as a castle, of course it would have a dungeon. Pipa was a bit scared, but Ethan offered his white mouse for companionship. Bernard was against it, but Thomas saw the way Pipa looked at the mouse. Bernard didn't stand a chance. The pair were in love. As much as a mouse and a girl could love. 

The classroom was of an oval shape and relatively large, with large tables. In the middle resides a stone basin used to wash students' hands and ladles. Looking around Thomas didn't care a wit for the chilly air making the other student rub their arms. Or the musty air that wrinkled even Lars's nose. It smelled like herbs, and burnt potions. Of age and wisdom's. 

Thomas stopped and then his nose did wrinkle. Looking around Thomas saw bottles filled with animals he could name. Floating in different colours of liquids he couldn't even begin to guess what it was. He would have loved to look at them in detail. To check over the brews along the back wall where a teaching black board stood tall, but that scent. Thomas sniffed the air again, the scent became stronger. Like it was... 

“Greetings Thomas.” A familiar voice rolled. An aged timber that strung Thomas heart alive with memories. With flashes of pain, pain of loss, pain of fear; of pain without him around any longer. Whirling around his world shook with the settling of his school robes. 

Standing tall and straight — like a proper man would. Dressed in dusky reds, and purple robes. With an all to familiar two-sided medal. That has a Celtic knot on one side and an owl on the other. A dull black colour. Thomas knew this because he carved it himself as a gift. 

Gulping Thomas looked up, tears gathering in his eyes that he couldn't stop. White hair, that dared not be anything but pin straight. Dark set eyes and a face filled with sharp angels. All that changed was his ears. They were no longer human round, but pointed -like his. 

“Old Man?” Thomas whispered, the only thing his tight throat could do. Old Man nodded, with his version of a smile flatting his lips. 

“Professor Nocturne. Thomas.” Placing a hand on his shoulder. Confirm to Thomas how real he was. He was alive. Thomas's heart bounced in his chest. Happy. His mind swirled though. With doubt, with questions. Many, many questions. 

“Later Thomas.” He promised. A man who he swore was dead spoke once again. Shocking Thomas to his core. His mind lost to the meanings behind it all. For to have pointed ears, one had to be a vampire. A vampire like him? 

“Class will now begin. Take your seats.” Leaving Thomas behind in a swish of his robes. Only Bernard and Lars, kept Thomas from the floor.


	12. Leaping Forward

“!” Blinking, Thomas woke up looking into a pair of black beady eyes, and a silent scream on his lips.

“Squeakers! Don't scare Thomas.” A pair of small pale hands came in. Sweeping the furry black eyes beast from Thomas line of sight.

“Wh-what happened?” Thomas pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. Lars was right there, hands on his shoulder to steady him.

“You fainted!” Pipa held her hands to her chest. “I've never been so scared.”

“Fainted?” Thomas frowned. He was never one to do that. Sleep would come if he ever became overwhelmed, but fainting?

“Professor Nocturne carried you here. Only Lars was allowed to stay at your side.” Bernard pale face looked tired and, if possible. Even paler than usual.

“We came straight after classes!” Pipa picked up her mouse, Squeakers, and place him on her head. Then she passed Thomas sheets of parchment paper. Pipa's writing was neat and easy to read. Right down to the little mice she drew on the bottom of her notes. “I know you were looking forward to classes. I took careful notes for you.”

“Thank you, Pipa.” Thomas whispered. Happy that she cared, but a touch scared at how he got here.

“Who was that Professor to you?” Lars asked. Thomas turned and stared into a stern thunderous eyes. “Did he hurt you?” Lars eyes darkened and his grip on Thomas's shoulder tightened. Thomas winced under the pressure. “Sorry.” Lars drops his hands, turning into fists on his laps. “You scared me.”

“You scared us all.” Bernard said, “Even the Professor was taking by surprise.”

“If clicking your tongue counts as concern.” Pipa grumbled, ignoring Bernard's stern gaze.

“He brought me here?” Thomas wanted to confirm.

“Yes.” Lars said, “But he left as soon as he dropped you into the bed.” Lars lips flatted. “I insisted on staying.” Lars hands shook. Thomas was quick to put his over top of Lars. Not wanting Lars to hurt his own hands.

“Thanks Lars.” Thomas said looking straight into Lars's angry eyes. Turning to look at the others. Bernard was pale, but trying to smile. To encourage Thomas. Pipa was angry and pouting, but she took notes for Thomas. Each of them cared about Thomas. “Thank you.” Thomas told them. Feeling that after this kind of day. Being accursed of biting someone. Finding out about the Old Man, no, Thomas corrected himself. About Professor Nocturne. He should take this time to open up.

“That's what friends are for Thomas.” Pipa said, a smiling blooming across her face. Bernard smiled too, an unstained smile. Giving Bernard a silent nod of acknowledgement.

“Who is he, Thomas?” Lars said, his hands still under Thomas's. Bringing his hands back to his lap. Thomas looked around the room. It was a big rectangular room. Large windows let in the natural light, now a shimmering orange of sunset. Plants placed around the room leaned towards those fading rays. Stopping the room from looking cold. With their lines of beds, and small side tables. Only one bed had a screen around it, but otherwise they were alone.

“It's both a long, and short story.” Thomas said with a sigh. Ready to open up. To more than just Lars. Looking to Lars, Thomas received a nod, like he knew what he was silently asking if he to found these two as friends.

“We have two hours before curfew.” Bernard said, folding his leg and resting his hands on his knees. A very adult looking poise, that was also very Bernard.

“Forgot about curfew!” Pipa said, Squeakers the mouse, piping in with his own nod. Settling in Thomas's mind, that it was no ordinary mouse. “We have all night. Take our time Thomas.” Pipa scooted her chair closer. The legs scrapping on the stone floors.

“Well, until this summer I was in an orphanage.” Thomas began. Explaining without interruption about his life before, Old Man, Professor Nocturne. Though very young, treatment didn't very much as he got older. The abuse, mostly verbal, from both the other kids and the Rows. How the town people ignored this, because of his pointed ears, they hadn't like him either.

“To everyone I was a demon or something to ignore.” Thomas got to his point. “Old Man, as I called him then. Changed that.” Thomas smiled, thinking about his lessons with him. They really were the brightest part of his time there.

“He's the one who got you drinking?” Pipa said, titling her with a frown.

“Not drinking. Bar tending.” Thomas corrected with a raised finger.

“What is the difference?” Pipa said crossing her arms.

“Bar tending is mixing drinks for customers.” Lars said in a slow voice that brought out his brogue.

“Very much like potion making?” Bernard said, him and Lars shared a look. One that said they agreed on something, but didn't lend its understanding to outsiders.

“Yes. He also taught me how to read, write, poetry and woodcarving.” Thomas started on about everything that Professor Nocturne had done for him.

“Poetry is its own lesson?” Pipa looked shocked, her eyes widening and her lips parted into an o shape.

“Poetry is the heart of each era.” Thomas told Pipa. Eager to share his knowledge. “Poems don't lie, and reveal more with every reading.” Reading them over and over. Thomas found new things and he loved it.

“Wasn't that boring?” Pipa said weakly.

“I liked getting to know a poet — like finding a friend.” Thomas shared with a smile. “I have some about animals you might like.” Pipa's eyes welled up with tears. Even her little mouse had its paws up to his mouth.

“You poor thing!” Pipa flung her arms around his neck. Throwing herself across the bed in the process. “It's okay you don't have to find friends in a dusty old book anymore!” Pipa sniffled into Thomas shoulder. Squeakers patted his cheek with a small paw. Thomas patted her back with his hand, wondering what was wrong?

“I like my dusty old books.” Thomas mumbled to himself. Looking to Lars and Bernard for help.

“He lied to you.” Lars said, Bernard came over to peel Pipa off. Offering her and tentatively her mouse a handkerchief. Both accepted. “You told me he was dead.”

“Yes. I thought he was dead. The Rows told me that.” Thomas frowned, recalling the heartache he went through. The pain.

“Then the Rows lied.” Pipa said with sniffle, blowing into Bernard's handkerchief.

“No.” Thomas said slow. Knowing that he could tell when he was lied to, but looking at Lars. He remembered his promise to Uncle Liam, about not telling anyone about his ability to tell truths from lies.

“You must keep this a secret you two.” Lars said in a furious whisper. His brogue turning into a dark threat crawling across Thomas's bed. Bernard and Pipa nodded solemnly, swearing their oaths together in a tight whisper. Lars looked them over. Searching their very souls Thomas thought has he looked on. Before Lars gave him a nod, a silent go ahead.

“I can tell secrets from lies.” Thomas whispered. Putting a hand on his chest. “Lies — depending on their unpleasantness.” Thomas paused, taking a breath, “it hurts. In essence, you can not lie to me. Ever.” Thomas said.

“Can you lie?” Pipa asked tilting her head along with her mouse.

“No. I wither can't speak it, or I experience pain to make one.” Thomas shrugged. “Not really worth it to me.”

“Tell me Thomas.” Pipa said looking at him with shimmering brown eyes.

“Yes?” Thomas swallowed, waiting for the worse.

“I'm I pretty?” Pipa stood up her hands sinking into the bed side as she leaned forward for her answer.

“Yes.” Thomas said. His heart stopped. Stunned by the random question.

“Professor Marshall? Is she pretty?” Pipa said, eyes narrowing. Thomas shivered at the mental image of Professor Marshall.

“Uh, no.” Thomas shivered again. That woman went straight to that creepy folk tail place — strange, old and far from what Thomas thought was pretty. “I'm sure someone would think so.” Thomas added trying to be nice.

“Good enough!” Pipa sat back into her chair.

“It is nice to have someone who can't lie to you.” Bernard said, a sad smile turned his lips pale. “Refreshing really.” Bernard went back to his own chair. “I think that you shouldn't talk to Professor Nocturne alone.” Thomas frowned at Bernard. He wanted to talk to him. To have hims explain, to know so many things — like why were Professor Nocturne ears like his?

“Bernard said he mentioned he was a vampire — like you.” Lars said coming up to sit on the bed with him.

“Yes. His ears and fangs were hard to miss.” Bernard mentioned. Thomas shook his head. It was all hard to believe.

“Did he look human to you? Back at the orphanage?” Pipa asked, her voice on the lighter side compared to the boys.

“He did.” Thomas said with a nod.

“Then he's really powerful then.” Lars said. “Too powerful to meet alone.”

“I don't think he'll talk freely around others.” Thomas shook his head, knowing, at least; he hoped he knew. Professor Nocturne personality.

“Don't meet him tonight then.” Bernard came up with a quick compromise.

“Yes — you did faint after all.” Pipa agreed, nodding with the others.

“I've never fainted before.” Thomas said, still feeling uneasy about it.

“Then don't go. Not tonight, and not without letting us know.” Lars said, turning Thomas's chin towards him.

“Please.” Lars whispered, looking shaking around the eyes. Thomas resolve was weak and snapped right in two.

“Okay, but later.” Thomas insisted on that. He wouldn't leave it forever, just for now.

“Deal.” Lars gave him a big smile, letting go of his chin and pulled him into a hug. Thomas rested his head on his shoulder. Feeling very tired. Tonight he would just sleep. Unusual for him, but Thomas's mind needed the dark oblivion of sleep. The nurse refused to let him go — at first.

Thomas didn't want to stay in this part of the castle alone. He had no problems omitting his cowardly side. Lars insisted that he should stay — if Thomas was, and Pipa was talking about sitting up a tent. Bernard was auguring the rights of students, and being able to leave on their own free will. The young nurse gave up by tossing her hands in the air. Insisting herself that Thomas returned — if he felt unwell.

The other Gryffindor boys pushed their beds father from Bernard and him, but Thomas good care less. He had friends, and Thomas needed sleep more than worry over narrow-minded idiots, as Pipa told him on the way back to the Gryffindor room. Thomas slept through the night without an issue, and woke up. Thankfully without finding another student passed out in the common room.

The morning was quiet and filled with many yawns. The other hadn't slept has well as Thomas. He helped out where he could, by pouring juice and handing out breakfast. Breakfast was held once again at the Slytherin table. The twins were there and happily bickering back and forth.

Professor Walker was up first with Transfiguration class. Thomas discovered that he was utterly terrifying. He had turned into a large brown toad with a scar on the left side of its head. Thomas, along with many of the girls screamed. He turned back with a wheezing chuckle. It was then that Thomas decided he didn't like this teacher. Using Bernard as a Professor shield he got though class.

Charms was next. Thomas found the art of lifting feathers to be soothing after Professor Walker. Whose class was too much of a blur for Thomas to remember correctly. During lunch Pipa and Lars were happy to fill in the gaps. Bernard spent the time to fight off Victoria's advances. Her twin spent the save amount of time trying to save him. They left lunch with a promise to together at supper to write those letters to Lars's mother.

Final it was time for flying lesson's. Professor Barlow had a similar outfit that he had worn when Thomas first met him. A simple beige top and kilt. His robe was interesting as ever and the geometric patterns in a design in brass shined under the afternoon light. His black pointed hat had brass goggles rested on its wide brim.  
“Okay first years!” Professor Barlow had them all lined up in rows of two. Walking in between them he made eye connect with each of them. “The best way to learn. Is to do.” At the end of the rows he stopped and turned. He had a larger broom laying on the ground at his side.

“Up.” Professor Barlow gave a wide smile, flashing his white teeth. Making several of the girls giggle. Thomas was confused, and Lars shook his head. Even Pipa was smiling, making Bernard lips flatting into a thin line. “Now you.”  
Thomas looked down. Not once during his summer did he take an interest in flying a broom. Even through he had several offers by Uncle Liam. The brown handle looked worn. Thomas thought it was rather poorly kept for such an important tool. It was the only thing between you and the ground. At least they could do was kept care of it.

“Aieee.” A scream brought Thomas head up. A thin boy wearing classes shot across the ground on his broom. Thomas recognized him as the boy who had almost fainted at shorting.

“Psto!” Professor Barlow called out. “Control your broom!” Psto came back around. Thomas could see his body wrapped around the broom length. Hanging on for dear life. “Feel the broom, and you can control it.” Several students snickered at Psto unfortunate trip. Professor Barlow kept calling out bits of advice, but it was obvious to Thomas were not working.

“Help me!!” Psto cried when the broom turned and be lined to the forest.

“Psto!” Professor Barlow called out — taking his broom in hand. “Stay here!” Professor Barlow turned quickly shouting orders. “I don't want to see one broom in the air!” Hopping until his broom he dashed after the fading trail of Psto.

“How is the sister killer?” Daniel stepped out first — pinning his angry glare on Thomas.

“Your sister isn't dead. Potter.” Lars came in, cutting a path with his green and black school robes. Looking like a knight in school armour. Thomas was both happy, and impressed.

“Her soul has drifted out. A rare, but not unheard of condition.” Bernard added in. Staring Daniel down without wavering.

“A Slytherin, and someone that should be in Slytherin.” Daniel looked at them with a sneer. “Like your words mean anything.”

“The nurses should. I heard her talk about it myself.” Pipa said her hands on her hips. Thomas was hiding behind a shield of friends. It was heart-warming, but left Thomas feeling empty. Shouldn't he be able to stand up too? Not even for himself, but for his friends. The ones who were standing by his side.

“Yes. The snitch. How convenient.” Daniel said, Thomas squirmed his way to the front, to stand of his friends. “Maybe if you guys lose something dear. You'll understand what it feels like.” Daniel snatched Squeakers right off Pipa's head — his favourite spot to sit.

“Squeakers!” Both Pipa and Ethan cried. Reminding Thomas that it wasn't really Pipa's mouse.

“Give him back.” Thomas said giving Daniel the best glare he could. Hurting his friends was bad, but taking it out on some poor defenceless mouse? That was plain cruel.

“Come and get it.” Daniel grabbed a broom from one of his bystanders. And flew into the air. They all oohed and look at Thomas. Expecting. Staring into the air Thomas body froze. He couldn't fly. He couldn't do anything.

“I got this Thomas.” Lars patted his shoulder and flew up into the air. Everyone was talking and Thomas swore he head a few making bets. Bernard was trying to comfort Pipa who was balling. Thomas's finger turned into fist at his side. He wanted to help. Thomas wanted to defend his friends, but all he did? Was make things worse. Poor Squeakers. Thomas could hear his terrifying cries — it made him feel pain like a fist to his heart.

“Ah!” Veronica screamed — pointing at Daniel empty hand. A tiny white speck falling to the ground.

“Noooo!” Pipa cried falling to the ground, and taking Bernard and Ethan with her. Thomas took off. Running at the little falling white dot. Thomas's heart pounded hard enough that he felt it pump into his veins. Hear it flow in his ears. Thomas wasn't moving fast enough. Squeakers wasn't falling slow enough. Thomas was going to catch him — he only had to jump.

“Squeakers!” Thomas cried out. Digging his feet into the earth he jumped. His entire focus on that very important catch. Feeling lighter than air. Thomas felt his chains to the earth cut off. He knew he would catch Squeakers and when the little furry ball landed into his outstretched palms. Thomas thumped to the ground, landing down hard, and dropping to one knee.

“Are you okay?” Thomas whispered into his hands. The little mouse looked up at him. Shaking so hard it clung to Thomas's thumb.

“Squeakers!” Pipa cried, Thomas turned his catch. Squeakers clung to Pipa clothes has she placed him on her chest — holding him close.

“Thank god you can fly!” Ethan waddled behind. Shot flowing down his face, and tears fogging his glasses.

“Fly?” Thomas said looking around he saw dropped mouths and whispering behind hands. Lars landed beside Thomas. Broom dropping to the ground without care.

“Thomas are you okay?” Lars helped Thomas up from the ground. “I didn't know you could fly.” Lars said his voice shaking along with his hands while dusty Thomas off.

“I can't fly.” Thomas said, his voice shrinking with the weight of the stares and Lars words. “I just jumped.” Thomas looked over the crying duo. Babying the little white mouse. “I wanted to save Squeakers.”

“Thomas. With me.” Professor Nocturne appeared from the air. Making everyone, but Thomas jump — who was used to his sudden appearances. Thomas turned to Lars. His arms were folded, his blond hair was flying around his face, and his face flushed from flying about. Still, — he was giving the Professor a narrow eyed stare. Thomas was surprised at the amount of distrust coming off of Lars — he was usually a persona with a warm feeling about him. “Alone.”

“Uh -yes?” Thomas answered, looking to his friends before walking towards the Professor. He was a bit worried about them. Lars, he could hear the sound of his teeth grinding together. Pipa was red eyed and shaking and Bernard — was busy at her side. Thomas did, unlike Lars, trust Professor Nocturne — didn't he?

“Potter. You better be truthful with Barlow.” Professor Nocturne looked pass him, and saw that Daniel had landed, and Professor Barlow was coming in behind with a shaking student clinging to his back.

“Yes. Professor.” Daniel whispered. Looking pale, and staring at his hands. Shock at Professor Nocturnes appearance or at his own actions. Thomas could only hope for the latter. Leaving his friends behind he followed Professor Nocturne into the bowels of the school. Determined to get his answers, and to prove to Lars, and even himself. That Professor Nocturne — Old Man — was not a bad guy.


	13. I Regret Nothing

Leading Thomas down the twist and turns of the schools halls. He found himself in the potions room. Professor Nocturne's attitude may have seemed cold. Not a word was spoken between the pair. For Thomas, it was reading the page of an old familiar books. The musk of age, filled this classroom as it did the cottage. 

Thomas took a stool from one the lined desk and brought it up front to wear Professor Nocturne sat. Looking at Thomas. Lesson time, Thomas thought to himself. Seeing the familiar glint in his eyes. Thomas sat and folded his hands on his lap — in a prefect siting posture. Though hardly ever mentioned. 

Thomas worked hard to keep his back upright and shoulders back at all times. A small thing he had notice about Professor Nocturne, and a small part that Thomas could imitate. To be more like the man in front of him. For as much as he admired the O'Sullivan family as a while, and Lars as an individual. If anyone bothered to ask Thomas who he wanted to be like — it would be Old Man — who Thomas now knew as Professor Nocturne. 

“You have questions.” Professor Nocturne said folding his hands, much like Thomas, across the desk in front f him. 

“Many” Thomas nodded, and said. 

“Answering isn't my way — you know this.” Professor Nocturne raised a single arched brow. “It never has, and I won't change now.” 

“I need to figure things out on my own.” Thomas knew that, to grow and became his own man, as he was often told. He must learn to make his own choices and come to his own conclusions...but still. “There were some things you can never learn on your own.” Thomas said, Lars and his family taught him what it was like to have a home. Bernard and Pipa were teaching him how to be a good friend. Things Thomas felt could never really be discovered on your own. 

“That is something I never taught you.” Professor Nocturne said, inclining his head in a nod. 

“No — I fingered that out on my own.” Thomas shook his head. Thinking back to Lars worried face, he decided to get to the point. For his shake as much as his. “Why didn't you ever tell me?” Thomas asked. His heart pounded in his ears. “Why?” It bothered Thomas. That one question. 

“Didn't you trust me?” Thomas looked into the black eyes of the man he admired. A man that, if Thomas ever dared to say it out loud. He would consider like a father. Hoping that if only this one time, he would give him a straight answer. 

“Ah,” Professor Nocturne sighed and closed his eyes. “You are the only one who could make me like this.” Thomas's heart sat at the edge of his lips. His teeth biting down on it was the only thing keeping it in. That and hope, a faint flickering hope. That no matter what anyone did to him — en-dour. The heart of that flame sat in front of him. Thinking behind closed eyes. 

“Please.” Thomas said, interrupting for the first time; those thoughts. 

“Thomas — I will say one thing.” He opened his eyes looking at Thomas with a ghost of a smile across his lips. “I love you more than my own, and because of that — I can say no more.” Thomas's heart sucked back into Thomas mouth. Getting stuck once in Thomas throat. Thomas pounded his chest with his free hand. 

Shock not letting his brain tell him that, his heart getting stuck in his throat was impossible. It was too busy racing — for the first time in his life. Someone. Someone important to him. Told him. Told Thomas. That he was loved, and no matter where his heart was lodged. Thomas felt the truth flow through his veins like his own blood. 

“I love you too Professor.” Thomas swallowed his heart back into his chest. Tears dropping like rain from his eyes. Like the weather Thomas couldn't stop them from doing what they wanted. 

“Yes — I know.” Professor Nocturne sighed again, passing from his pocket. A dark red handkerchief. Another familiar sight that made Thomas smile despite the tears. Thomas took it and patted his face dry. 

“Thank you.” Thomas sniffled. Feeling a little better. 

“I am only able to stay at your side for this school year — then I must return to my coven.” Professor Nocturne said, acting like nothing else was else. It was so typical of him that it helped Thomas get his head back to the present. 

“A coven is...your family?” Thomas asked, a dark feeling creeping along the edge of his emotions. 

“Yes — though different from you.” Professor Nocturne said tilted his head back to look down at Thomas. “They will never be Master's.” Thomas's mouthed opened and shut with a click. His hands clinging to the handkerchief still within his palm. “Yes Thomas. I have but a year to teach you everything I can, then you are on your own.” 

“I don't even have fangs!” Thomas said — the darkness stabbing into him. He didn't want to think about the Professor leaving not when they just meet again. 

“You flew — though it was a short flight. To save that mouse.” Professor Nocturne's voice dropped an octave, nailing Thomas to his chair. “Your vampire nature is awakening. Your mother's bloodlines won't save you from that.” 

“What does that mean?” Thomas said, biting back down on his lip. Unsure about the storm of emotions swirling inside him. 

“Lessons.” Professor Nocturne said. Pulling a piece of parchment from the air with a snap of his fingers. Thomas took hold of it. Feeling numb on the outside, a stark contrast to the mess his insides were in. “I've cleared it that we'll have lessons every night — except weekends.” 

“Okay.” Thomas said his lips flatting in thought. Lesson he could do. At least he would get to spend some time with the Professor, more than he did at the orphanage. Thomas took the moment to think about it. 

“The O'Sullivan boy can come along with you.” Professor Nocturne said, Thomas lifted his eyes from the scroll in surprise. 

“Really?” Thomas's heart yo-yo back up. Lars didn't seem to like Professor Nocturne, if the pair meet in a better setting. Thomas was sure Lars would come to like him! 

“Yes. Interesting choice you have made there Thomas.” Professor Nocturne said with a flash of fangs. 

“Thanks?” Thomas said, not at all sure what he meant, but that was nothing unusual. 

“The past will come to haunt us all this year.” Professor Nocturne said standing up from his chair. “Let us use the present — to prepare for your future.” 

“Do I have anything to worry about?” Thomas asked standing up himself. Wondering what he should do about the extra lessons in his hand. 

“Nothing that won't hold until your first lesson.” Professor Nocturne slipped his handkerchief out of Thomas's hand. Putting it into his own pocket. “We have a year Thomas. A full year. I won't leave you before then.” Professor Nocturne placed a hand on the small of his back, and lead Thomas to the door. 

“Will I never see you again?” Thomas said still worry about it. Professor Nocturne looked down at Thomas. His eyes scanning him over, reading him; Thomas stared back and waited. 

“Master's often see one another.” Professor Nocturne said, and looked at Thomas. 

“I have to become a good Master then.” Thomas said taking his cue to speak. He didn't know a lot of things. He wasn't under the belief he was anything special. Thomas did know one thing, if being a Master was what it took to keep the people he cared about in his life. Then he would do so. No matter what that turn out to mean. 

“Professor?” Thomas felt the hand shake on his back. A tremor of emotions that Thomas thought Professor Nocturne wasn't capable of showing. 

“Your father and you shall be the death of me.” Professor Nocturne muttered to himself. Not low enough that Thomas couldn't hear him. 

“You knew my father?” Thomas said, the dark edges around his heart shattered in responds to the shock. 

“Tell the O'Sullivan boy — I'm looking forward to meeting him again.” Professor Nocturne pushed Thomas out the door. Turning with a flick of his long white hair, leaving Thomas alone in the hall. With more question than answers, and a dark cloud in his heart. That despite not being visible. Lingered at the edges of Thomas heart. Prowling around him as it waited. Thomas didn't pay it any attention. He was ushered to the back of his thoughts. 

Thomas hurried back to his friends — who like Thomas had thought were waiting for him at the study hall. Thomas rushed over to meet up with his friends. They open their books with the pretense of studying. Victoria and Ethan were not there. Ethan had taken a dizzy spell after all that had happened, and his twin had taking him up to the nurses wing. Thomas was, of course, not happy that Ethan was unwell, but happy at the freedom it gave him to speak. After telling them everything, except the crying bit -Thomas had some pride after all. Thomas sat down and waited on their responses. 

“You're going to be a master vampire?” Bernard said his eyebrows brought together in thought. “That amazing Thomas!” Pipa congratulated Thomas. The first to be positive about something, was very Pipa. 

“I never doubted that.” Lars said a strained smile on his face made him look much older than his eleven years. “You were never meant to be a mere follower.” 

“But?” Thomas asked, hearing the obvious voice of doubt. 

“He didn't tell you anything Thomas.” Lars said shaking his head. “Pushing it off until next time, dropping that emotional bomb on you.” Lars leaned forward on the table, his eyes turning to storm clouds. 

“I bet he knew you wouldn't press him after that.” Thomas sighed, what Lars said was true. He had gone in there with full intentions of being brave and getting some answers. Thomas shoulders slumped, he failed on that one. 

“Sorry, but I know Professor Nocturne isn't a bad man.” Thomas said, feeling a bit defensive. “I admire him — a lot.” Thomas turned away from Lars's eyes. Unable to look into them. 

“We should give him a chance.” Pipa said. “We don't know much about him, and he's important to Thomas.” Thomas looked to Pipa. She gave him a thumbs up, he gave her a weak smile back. 

“Adults who keep their cards close to their chest — are often trouble.” Bernard shook his head. Eyes honey coloured eyes looking unclear, his mind focus more at his own thoughts. 

“Cards close to their chest?” Pipa asked the same question Thomas was thinking. 

“It means that only they know what their playing.” Bernard cleared to that misty sadness he carried inside him. “We could be playing for fun, but it's for keeps.” 

“It's like playing Old Maid, but he knows where she is the whole time.” Pipa said thumbing a fist into her palm. 

“I'm sorry, but I'm still lost.” Thomas said, raising his hand like he was in class. 

“You're playing a game that has fifty-two cards.” Pipa said sliding to him, Thomas nodded. “You only have ten.” 

“Okay.” Thomas nodded, getting the idea. 

“But he won't give you the rest Thomas.” Lars said, Thomas looked back to him. “And that makes the game unfair.” 

“Did I mention he said you could come to?” Thomas said offering a solution. 

“Maybe this Professor isn't half bad!” Pipa said patting Thomas on the shoulder while looking at Lars. “Some adults think its better if the kids don't have all the cards. Especially if they could hurt Thomas.” 

“That can be as painful.” Lars said dry and plain face. Leaning back to his side of a table with a sigh. 

“I would rather know where I stood. If given the option.” Bernard said shaking his head. “I don't want you to go through what I do at home Thomas.” Bernard smiled, a real smile though his eyes were still misted over. 

“Professor Nocturne would never hurt me on purpose.” Thomas said, pushing the scroll to Lars. “My first class with him isn't until after Halloween. Plenty of time to see what he's like in class.” 

“If he made Thomas so smart. I'm sure we'll ace potions too!” Pipa said. 

“Fine, but I'm coming with you.” Lars said threatening him. Thomas nodded, he was more than happy to bring Lars along with him. It was no threat to him. “Every time.” 

“Sure no problem.” Thomas agreed. “Give him a chance though.” Thomas pleaded. “He's important to me.” Lars narrowed his eyes and gave Thomas a stern once over. Before agreeing with a dissatisfied nod and grunt. 

“With that settled. Can you please explained to me why my cauldron exploded?” Pipa asked Thomas while batting her eyes and smiling at him. 

“It did what?” Thomas asked her, not believing his ears. Bernard explained what happened and Lars laughed. The rest of the day was rather peaceful. The weeks that followed afterwards were very similar. Thomas grew used to his classes. 

Discovering his lack of Herbology skills along the way. Making Bernard almost cry. Professor Frost ban him from touching her cactus like plant. It had exploded upon Thomas inquisitive poke. Gryffindor group didn't approach Thomas and his friends. They had all but been adopted by the Slytherin house members. Who were a friendly bunch — mind the odd one here and there. Thomas did see Daniel come around a few times, but he never came any closer. His sister remained in the nurse's office. The Professor looked to where her soul drifted off too. 

Before Thomas knew it. Halloween was upon them. According to Muggle traditions you got dressed up. Thomas never got a chance growing up at the orphanage. Lars and Bernard found the idea interesting, and Pipa lead the charge. She was actual good at sewing. 

Thomas dressed up like a poet who had a fondness for ravens. Lars was the Raven. Pipa had sewn feathers onto a cape for him to wear. Thomas spent a week craving him a beak out of wood they had found outside. Pipa and Bernard went dressed up as mice — to match Squeakers. Who had officially become Pipa's as of Halloween morning. Ethan kept visitation rights. 

They entered the great hall in style. The muggle-born got it, and the others didn't. Thomas who was used to being whispered about. Didn't spare them a wit of his time. The hall was decked out with pumpkins of all shapes and sizes. Glowing with a mysterious spell — that Thomas wanted to learn one day. Candles floated before a moving night sky and candy. There was so much that Thomas's eyes bulge at the sight! 

Laughing at Thomas reaction. The foursome headed to their table, because by now everyone had their spots. There they ate and laughed. Thomas did release scream at the multitude of chocolate frogs that appeared. He was saved by his mice friends. Swept them away to another table. The night was getting started when Professor Cross. Thomas didn't have them as a Professor — since they only taught Care of Magical Beast. Came running into the great hall. 

“There is a troll in dungeon!” Professor Cross gasped their muscular frame bulged their brown medium-length robe. “Keep the kids safe — while I catch it!” Their eyes twinkled a forest green before they darted off again. Kids around them started to scream, and panic. Thomas and his friends were not among them. 

“Quiet!” Professor Longbottom ordered from the long head table. “Prefects lead the students back to your dorms.” He turned his head towards Professor Frost who sighed. 

“I'll deal with Issa.” She said taking off. Many of the teachers followed after her. Thomas parted from Lars and was half-way to his dorm with Pipa and Bernard. He clicked into one thing. 

“Bernard.” Thomas said to him, stopping the three off them in their tracks. 

“What is it?” Bernard looked at him, looking silly with mouse whiskers painted on his face. It was a shame Thomas didn't feel like laughing. 

“Isn't Slytherin's dorm in the dudgeon?” Thomas asked licking his dried petrified lips. Bernard paled whiter than the faux fur on his costume. 

“Lars.” The three of them said together. Without a second thought or another word. They turned around and booked it for the dungeon. In case there friend needed them. 

“Surly the whole of Slytherin house could take on a troll?” Pipa said puffing. 

“What he they got left behind?” Thomas said his over-sized waist coat trailing behind him. 

“How would that even happen?” Bernard asked as they turned the corner. 

“If you don't think it's possible — why are you two running?” Thomas demanded, their silence was his answer. They were worried too, and when they spun the last corner they were worried for a good reason. 

“Tell me truly I implore.” Thomas whispered aghast at the sight before him. A large mountain stood before them, ugly as the night was dark. It's body covered it large dinner plate warts. Skin that looked more like gravel made it more hideous — the more Thomas looked on. In it's right hand was a wooden club that was larger than Thomas. 

What made it all worse was that fact that Thomas could see right through the monstrosity! It was a monster of a ghost, and a ghost of a monster. The thing — the toll ghost. Swung wildly in the hall aiming for a crying Victoria who was crying behind Lars. A knight in feathered clothing. A knight that looked pale and shaking before its foe. 

“Lars!” Thomas called out. 

“Thomas stay back!” Lars called out. “It drains you by being near!” Lars paled another shade before Thomas's eyes. He couldn't stay away — he had to do something! 

“You stupid beast!” Thomas called out, not feeling effected by the thing at all. “Your mother was but a red herring in another man's tale!” Thomas insult work because the beast turned around. Turning it;s glowing white eyes. At him. Turning to Bernard who was staring at Thomas with a strange look. “Get Lars and Victoria out of here!” Thomas said showing off a well of bravery that wasn't there. 

“What about you?” Bernard said, the troll started to lumber over to them. 

“I'll think of something!” Thomas was sure he would — or otherwise he could possibly die. 

“I got your back Thomas!” Pipa pulled out her large rainbow swirl wand. Thomas nodded, and ran at the ghost troll. Dodging its swinging club. Little did the thing know — Thomas was an expert of dodging hits! He had plenty of practice after all 

“Thomas look out.” Lars's voice sounded weaker — it only edges Thomas on wards. When the nest swing came — he grab the club! Swinging up into the air with it. Looking down at the head of the troll ghost — its eyes once again set it apart. Not the glowing, but the looked — they looked human. To human to be a trolls eyes. Not that Thomas was an expert by any means. 

“Thomas!” Pipa cried out. Thomas let go of the club to land on the thing's broad shoulders. From his view he could see Bernard, with Lars help to get Victoria father away from the ghost troll pull. Everyone was looking rather pale — and sick. Even Pipa shook where she stood — bravely stood in front. Waiting for a chance, and Thomas would give it to her! 

“Pipa, blind it!” Thomas acted on instinct, bringing out his own wand. He ran with a hand on the trolls head for balance. Around its shoulders — while it tried to knock him off with his club. 

“Lumos!” Pipa flicked her wand with a grace that Thomas was to busy to see. The room lite up with the brightness of Pipa's spell. Knocking the troll ghost back. Thomas looked straight into eyes. Watching a burning hatred burn out from under the light. Thomas wasn't afraid he was angry. 

“Stay away from what is mine!” Thomas hissed, with a dark dominant strike that Thomas didn't know he possessed. Pulling out his wand he pointed it straight at the ghost eyes. “Lumos!” Thomas called out. Sending the ghost troll screaming and disappearing into the darkness of the hall. Thomas lost his ground with nothing to stand on. He went tumbling down. Without a chance to scream. Thomas tried turning in midair. The floor was coming at him fast. 

“Thomas!” His friends voice's cried. Inches from the floor, Thomas didn't close his eyes. It might have been easier for him, but he doubted he could. He felt a frozen, and he was. 

“You okay now, Mr. Cloverleigh.” Professor Barlow's voice came to Thomas, who he let him fall to the floor. 

“Yes.” Thomas sighed sitting up, right into the tackling hug of Pipa. 

“Thomas that was amazing!” Pipa squealed. “I didn't know you had it in you.” Pipa strangled Thomas by the neck, giving Thomas a chance to see Lars. 

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked Lars who still looked pale. All he got was a cold blue-grey stare in return. 

“What you did was plain stupid!” Lars said, Thomas was happy to hear Lars's voice get stronger, but not that he was yelling at him. 

“What was I suppose to do?” Thomas snapped back, his heart almost burst seeing Lars in trouble. What did Lars want him to do? Stand there? “Let that ghost troll kill you!” 

“The teacher were coming!” Lars came over, and Pipa slid away. Thomas glared up at Lars. Who glared right back. 

“Not fast enough.” Thomas said stubborn as Lars. 

“You are only a first year!” Lars said dragging Thomas off the floor. Thomas brushed himself off. His eyes not leaving Lars. No way he was backing down. 

“So are you!” Thomas said, and he added. “And that didn't stop you from saving Victoria!” 

“I'm different.” Lars said folding his arms across his chest with a scowl. 

“In what way?” Thomas asked waving his hands up in the air — finished with Lars's stubborn strike, but not with his own. “

I'm not you!” Lars said, “I rather die than see you dead Thomas.” 

“You think you're the only one who feels that way!” Thomas pointed a finger at Lars's face. “You pomp poet! I feel that way too, and I regret nothing.” Thomas finished folding his own arms across his chest. 

“This is all very moving.” Professor Barlow called them out of their fight. “It's charming — really.” Thomas turned to see not only Professor Barlow, but the other Professors too. One being the watchful Professor Nocturne. Thomas felt the heat rush to his face. He had forgotten about the Professor's! “You covered the basics for why — what you both did was stupid.” Professor Barlow sighed. “Five points off of all you.” 

“Please get back to your common rooms. Except for you Miss Tinder. Let's get you to a nurse.” Professor Frost spoke up going to Victoria's side. “You should see a nurse too.” Thomas said to the still to pale Lars. Earning another glare. 

“I. Am. Fine.” Lars said through gritted teeth. Thomas returned his glare. Professor Barlow clapped his hands in the air. 

“Let's all go to the nurse's office.” Professor Barlow said. “You can explain, each of you, what all happened.” They all trailed dutiful behind, Lars too. 

“Thomas,” Professor Nocturne pulled Thomas to his side. Looking at him with a glint his black eyes. 

“Yes,” Thomas said, with a tilted to his head. 

“Congratulation on earning your fangs.” He said. “Don't forgot our first lesson is tomorrow night.” Seeing him off to the nurse's office before leaving Thomas with that bomb of information on his lap. Thomas ran his tongue over his teeth. Pricking his own tongue with his own — new sharp fangs. What's next? Thomas wondered sighing with every inch of his being. Only to prick his tongue again.


	14. Harry Potter

Night — was Thomas favourite time of a twenty-four day. It was dark, with a promise of moonlight on non-cloudy days. Thomas liked the peace that night brought him. Thomas could work on his wood projects, or crack open a volume of poems to whisk the night away. Lately it had been all school work. Still, it was a time Thomas enjoyed, never once had he felt lonely, that was a trauma best left to the day — when he was surrounded by people. 

How could someone be alone? Surrounded by people? It was a very easy thing to do. Each of them had selected a bed. The nurse had insisted that they stay the night for observation. Right then — after the professor's and nurses left. Thomas felt very alone — a feeling he didn't think he would get surrounded by his friends. Also, he was starting to review what had all happened, and what he looked back on left him feeling...scared. 

Lars was laying on his bed — a pale figure of himself. Victoria looked no better. Bernard had fallen on his bed exhausted, and despite all her words of encouragement. Thomas didn't miss the glance of fear and worry that had run across-ed Pipa's face. Of course, it was the fear that hit Thomas the most, when Professor Nocturne had offered Thomas congratulations. 

“Fangs.” Thomas whispered to himself. Sighing he slid out of bed. Quieter than the snoring Squeakers on Pipa's pillow. Running his tongue along his fangs — yet again. It really hit home to Thomas. Being a vampire was more than having pointy ears. It was even more than having fangs. There was something inside Thomas. A darkness he felt. A possessive strike — that hiss when threatened. Right now it laid curled up inside Thomas. 

“What is it?” Thomas held his hand to his chest, trying in vain to look out the clouded windows of the hospital wing. It didn't stop the moonlight from coming in, but it did stop Thomas from seeing out. A fact that echoed the feeling in his heart. The darkness was there, but he couldn't see its source. Was it good — like the night Thomas loved? Or bad — the thing that made Daniel Potter hate him so much. Looking at the sleeping faces of his friends. Thomas slipped out into the halls of the school in search of answers. 

Was it against the rules? Yes. Did he have a reason? No. Thomas had a feeling — that there was somewhere he needed to be. Wondering the halls. Thomas ran into no one. He did catch a glimpse of Peeves, but he quickly turned tail and ran. Making Thomas sigh — was it his vampire nature that made him run or something more? Soon Thomas found himself in the place where the ghost troll appeared. His fangs, that feeling all blossomed here? 

Thomas looked down at the flagged stone floors, and the cold castle walls. Not a whisper spoken — not a glimpse, seen. Thomas looked up, and saw that he was in front of the girl's lavatory. With his keen ears — he heard a faint crying. His feet acting before his mind. Thomas strode right into the girl's lavatory. It was a simple bathroom — no different from any others. A circle of sinks and mirrors were to Thomas right, and to his left was a wall of stalls. Where the crying drifted from. 

“He-hello?” Thomas stuttered showing more bravery than he felt. 

“Whose there?” A sharp girls voice cut in. With her head poking right through one of the stall doors. 

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked, unsure how to proceed. She, with her head through a door, was obviously a ghost, and ghost don't like Thomas. Judging Peeves reaction. 

“Another one.” She came closer to Thomas. She looked like any other student, with glasses and pigtails. Even she wasn't a milky white — she would blend right in. 

“Ah- sorry.” Thomas said, not forgetting he was a boy — in the girls room. 

“I thought you I heard something.” Careful not to say that he felt a calling in here, that sounded weird, even to Thomas. 

“I was sitting on my toilet — thinking about death.” She drifted closer to Thomas. “Are you here to try to open the chamber?” 

“Um — not sure.” Thomas shrugged, he felt a pull, a reason to be here? Did some sort of answer laid here? If he could only find it. Was this chamber was it, and not the memory of the ghost troll? 

“What is this chamber?” 

“Some strange men tried earlier.” She swirled around Thomas. “Hissing and spitting. I told them to stop — and go away.” 

“Should I go to?” Thomas watched the girl spin around him. Seemingly not afraid of him. 

“You remind me of someone.” The girl smiled. It was a bit awkward and made Thomas feel a chill done his spine. “Your welcome to try.” She pointed over to the girls hand-washing station. 

“Ohhhh-” With that she squealed, a horrible sound, and went flying backwards in a large arch. Over the stall, and Thomas couldn't see it, but he could hear the s plunk of a toilet and a flush. Wrinkling his nose. Thomas turned to the sink, and walked over. What was here that got everyone to hiss and spit — like the ghost girl had said? Thomas walked around and looked at the floor, ceiling, number of sinks. Nothing stood out to Thomas. Until, he started to inspect the sinks. One was different. It had a small snake carved into it. 

“Interesting.” Thomas said running his fingers over the snake. A dark feeling that curled up himself him, hissing. “Could it be a snake?” Thomas felt a warmth in his chest. This idea felt right, but if others have tried and failed to make this sink reacted. How could Thomas make it do anything? After all, in Thomas's whole live — he never once met a snake. It was rather strange when you thought about it. Tilting his head Thomas was wondering if he should try making a hissing sound. When a throat cleared behind him. 

“That won't open now — even if you do find out you speak parseltongue.” Professor Barlow was standing behind him. His blue striped hair messy, like he had just gotten out of bed. 

“What is parseltongue?” Thomas said slow — to made sure he said it right. Professor Barlow came over and gave Thomas a small smile. 

“It is snake language.” Professor Barlow said, “Snakes a neither good nor bad beings Thomas.” Thomas nodded — Thomas never heard of an animal that was bad. Scared, or hungry but never bad. “They did however get a bad reputation here.” Professor Barlow shook his head sighing. 

“Isn't Slytherin house symbol a snake, Professor?” Thomas asked. Distinctly remembering the green and sliver colours with a snake on their house flag. Thomas rather liked it. 

“The first Slytherin was not a good man. Neither was the man who came after him.” Professor Barlow, put a hand on Thomas shoulder. “They used a large snake — a basilisk. To hunt in this school.” 

“Hunt what?” Thomas asked his very soul felt like a shaking mass in his chest. 

“Students — muggle-born.” Professor Barlow nodded to the toilet stall. “Like Myrtle there.” 

“That's not the snakes fault!” Thomas felt protective over the snake. Though he had never met it. 

“Few will see it that way. That is one of the reasons Lars acted as he did.” Professor Barlow rubbed his fingers between the bridge of his nose. “Slytherin or not. A vampires bond is a vampires bond.” Professor Barlow looked up, speaking Thomas felt, more to himself than to him. 

“A vampire's bond?” Thomas asked curious. 

“Ask Professor Nocturne.” Professor Barlow said with a lopsided grin. “If he doesn't want to answer — tell he's more than welcome to join me for a cup of tea.” The way he said it made Thomas shiver. What was wrong with Professor Barlow's tea? That made it sound like a threat even when Thomas had never even seen a cup. “Let's get you back to the hospital wing.” 

“Professor — what happened to the snake?” Thomas asked, though his coiling dark sunk into his stomach. 

“You know the answer to that Thomas.” Professor Barlow gave Thomas a sad smile. “You know so much — if you would only be brave enough to peek your head out of that dark house of yours.” 

“Can't I open a window instead?” Thomas asked -remembering the Professor's earlier talk of houses and windows. Professor Barlow laughed. 

“That is a good start Thomas. That is a good start.” Professor Barlow walked Thomas back to the hospital wing. The walk was silent, with only their footsteps spoke, but it wasn't an awkward feeling. At the door Thomas had one more question. 

“Professor?” Thomas asked tentatively, hoping he wasn't being a bother. All the people Thomas cared about. Though he could count them on one hand; didn't like answering questions. 

“Yes, Thomas?” Professor Barlow didn't seem bothered at all. Making Thomas feel more at ease with his kilt wearing Head of House. 

“Who killed the snake?” Thomas asked, the thought of the poor snake dying — even knowing it's crimes. Left a bad thought in Thomas mouth. 

“Harry Potter.” Professor Barlow answered. Thomas opened his mouth and the Professor raised a hand. 

“Yes, it is Daniel's family.” He would be a snake killer Thomas thought bitterly, feeling a bit of companionship with this ill besotting snake. 

“Snakes are neither good nor bad, but they can't be allowed to slither around wild either. Even a dog must learn to sit — to live in a house. With or without an open window.” Professor Barlow nodded, and turned to leave. 

“Now, pull a good book from your ring, and rest your mind.” Thomas nodded. He had been using his ring to carry supplies to class, so it was no surprise that Professor Barlow knew about it. 

“Tomorrow is a busy day, with friends to make up with, school and night classes.” Thomas grimaced, he never had a fight with someone he cared about before. 

“I'm not sorry about what I did.” Thomas said quiet but firm. Professor Barlow shook his head. 

“You don't have to be — but you must understand.” Professor Barlow said his brows furrowing. “Your not the only one who is afraid of a hissing dark.” Thomas felt his eyes widen — how did he know? “You don't need to be a seer — to see the present rolling in front of you.” 

“What is Lars, and the others scared of Professor?” Thomas asked. Without asking if it was him that they feared. Which, was something that made the darkness in him coil tight in his chest. Thomas didn't like this new feeling. Not at all. Not a single bit. 

“For you Thomas — for you. In the case of Lars O'Sullivan. Its always for you, but he forgets that in his search for a future — he must live in the now.” 

“Can I help him, live in the now?” Thomas asked, wondering how he, who Lars didn't want help from. Could help — he wanted too. Bernard and Pipa were his friends too, but Lars was special. Lars, saved Thomas — he was like a hero from a ballad. Where Thomas — wasn't even a footnote in it. 

“Remind him to live in the now.” Professor Barlow said solemn. “He'll get there.” 

“That sounds like a plan.” Thomas like the idea of a plan. Even a simple one. It eased that lost, lonely feeling inside him. Thomas found that with that feeling ebbing away. The dark hissing, possessive feeling ebbed away too. 

“Glad to be of some help.” Professor Barlow laughed. “Though I do wish it was more of a daylight hour. More of a morning bird — than a night owl. Despite my star gazing.” Thomas smiled too, unable to help it. Professor Barlow was an easy man to talk too. 

“Who is Harry Potter?” Thomas wondered, his thought back tracking a bit. 

“Most say a hero.” Professor Barlow said. 

“Are you most, sir?” Thomas asked with a tilt to his head. 

“He was a normal boy with a challenging burden to carry.” Professor Barlow looked at Thomas his eyes given off an odd, but now familiar glow to Thomas. “Much like you.” 

“Professor?” Thomas asked wondering how much thought, or as Thomas would turn it. Worry — he should put into that statement. Beside head to the library tomorrow to find out more about this Harry Potter. Books were always kind to Thomas — when he had the chance to read them. He was sure they would answer his questions about this Harry Potter. 

“Roll with the present Thomas. Roll with the present.” Professor Barlow smiled and shook off the glowing tint in his eyes. “Your friends can fill in the rest. An easy topic for an awkward morning.” Professor Barlow tucked Thomas into the room and turned to close the door, 

“Professor?” Thomas stopped him, and he turned with a simple turned off his brow. “What is wrong with your tea?” Professor Barlow gave Thomas a big smile. 

“My tea is as wild as the stars — the flavour is not for everyone.” Professor Barlow said with a glimmer in his eyes. Leaving Thomas with a peace that he had lost between supper and midnight. Crawling into his abandoned bed, Thomas pulled out a volume of old poetry on his lap. It was old, dusty and smelled like dust, mould, and possible even death. 

It was peaceful, and a good companion for a night like this. Still, it was Halloween night — and what a better book to read? Between poems, Thomas looked out the fogging window. His own heart still not clear, very much still like that window, but he could see the present. Like moonlight — it dimly lit up his space. Taking Professor's Barlow's words to heart. Thomas decided to try to roll with it — which was something he used to do, but here it was so easy to forget. With so much happening around him. 

The night passed by quickly, with words written by a dead poet. Bringing a clarity to Thomas's heart that could only be found, by cracking open a window. That was what talking so carefree with Professor Barlow was. A crack in his sealed window. Letting in some fresh air. In the morning Thomas would see what the fresh air brought him. Would it be good or bad. Thomas didn't know. All he could do was hope that he would still have friends in the morning. Fangs or no fangs.


	15. Changes

There are moments in your life. When things will change. Thomas had experienced it before. Once with the Old Man. Now Professor Nocturne — who came in and gave him a sliver of light in a place where Thomas only knew darkness. Lars, and his family came next. Showing him a past he never knew, and a future he never even thought of having. This was another turning point. Thomas closed the book on his lap. 

A light layer of dust danced in the beam of morning light that shot in the air. Looking up Thomas looked straight into the eyes of Lars, who was upright in his bed. Thomas wasn't sure what colour Lars's eyes were. They changed more than the clouds moved in the sky. Today they were grey — like a cloudy day. Thomas slipped out of bed. Still dressed in his robes. He walked over to Lars bed. He shifted over, and Thomas sat at the edge of the bed. Lars blonde hair was all messed up, but he had a healthy flush of pink to his face. 

“It is in the darkness that we see what others see. In the light is where we find ourselves.” Thomas said quoting the poet whose book he read last night. The passage held no real meaning. It did strike a chord with Thomas though. To what extent he couldn't say. 

“Sounds like you've been reading my father's books.” Lars brogue was thicker with sleep. Thomas lips curved at the corner. 

“Yes, Von Silversmith.” Thomas said taking great interest in the winkle in Lars pulled down blanket. 

“Worry is the foundation of friendship — it shows that you care.” Lars said, Thomas recognized the quote — it was from the same poem. 

“Didn't he trap his friend in cement?” Thomas said looking up at Lars, who winked. 

“Promise I won't go that far — if you won't.” Lars said a sloppy smile on his face. Thomas nodded, and held out his hand. Lars pulled him in for a hug. “I need to teach you how to insult someone.” Lars whispered in his ear. 

“Why?” Thomas pulled back, Lars laughed. 

“Your nothing but a red herring in someone else tale?” Lars quirk a brow at him. 

“That is a perfectly good insult.” Thomas said in a huff. 

“To what? My grandfather?” Lars said his eyes lightening to a soft blue-grey. 

“Boys.” Thomas turned and saw Pipa shaking her head from her bed. Bernard to was up. 

“I would have to agree with Lars — your insults are lacking.” Bernard nodded. His hair that was normally groomed to perfection. Had sliver-blonde hair roaming flying free around his face. 

“Ugh.” Pipa rolled her eyes and flopped on the bed. 

“Let's get dressed and have some breakfast.” Lars said swinging his feet over the bed. 

“Are you guys fine...” Thomas paused unsure what to say it without making it a fuss. Shaking his head he went all in. “With my fangs? I have them now.” 

“If this was at the train — I would have not taking it well.” Bernard tugged his hair out of his face with one hand. 

“Now?” Thomas held his breath. Bernard shrugged. 

“Your my friend. Fangs or no fangs.” Bernard said offering Thomas a smile through a yawn. 

“I want to touch them!” Pipa raised her hand. Shooting herself out of bed, she had her fingers in his mouth before he could blink. “Wow — I wished I had fangs.” Pipa muttered, and even Squeakers who crawled out from the nest that was Pipa's morning hair. Peered in. Completely unafraid. 

“Some things may change, but never my feelings for you.” Lars smiled, then an ear-piercing squeal ruined the moment. Victoria, who Thomas was ashamed to say, he had forgotten about. Was holding her hands to her chubby, beaming face. 

“It's...its...all so moe!!” Victoria squealed again, jumping up and down from on the poor bed. Sending her bed into shaking mess of fear, and horrible cried of pitched metal. The bed had clearly called for help, because the nurse came flying in. 

Kicking them all out of the room, freshen up and dressed — all at a flick of her wand. Bernard and Pipa, kept Veronica from going back in to demand the origins of that spell. Thomas didn't stop her, because the girl could be rather terrifying. He rather face another ghost troll — if he was going to be honest. 

“Do you think everyone knows?” Lars said, walking into the hall with his usual confidence. 

“Take a picture — it last longer!” Pipa stuck her tongue out at the silent eyes that had turned towards their little group. Victoria had disappeared from their group. In search of her brother, for they could contact their parent's to reassure them she was okay. 

“Don't encourage them Pipa.” Bernard sighed, back to his composed look. Thomas joined Bernard in his sigh. 

“Let's just eat.” Thomas said. Trying to demonstrate, that he too, had some strength that his friends had. 

“Think you are a hero now — Cloverleigh?” Daniel strolled up to them. An easy tell due to his messy black locks and green eyes. And the small gathering he always seemed to have around him. Did he feel naked without them? Thomas wondered. 

“I've been meaning to ask this, is calling people by their lasts names — a thing?” Thomas looked at Bernard, who Thomas had heard use this.

“Yes, it is.” Bernard looked over at Daniel. 

“Do you have fangs now?” A tall, well-built boy asked from behind Daniel. 

“Yes.” Thomas nodded. It wasn't like he could hide them under his hair — like his ears. Thomas gazed off and rubbed his upper lip. Maybe, he could grow a some cover? 

“Your a monster, we learned about your kind in Defence Against the Dark Arts class.” The boy sneered. 

“That's outdated! They revised that.” Pipa spoke up, Thomas turned, how would she know? “My parents are lawyers.” Pipa beamed with pride, and she turned and pointed her finger at the older boy. “They looked up magic laws before I came here.” 

“It was added in last year.” Lars spoke up. “We have a teacher that is a vampire for Goddess shakes.” He turned and nudge Thomas with his elbow. “Lets go — we have better things to do.” 

“I'm not done with you yet.” The boy took a step forward. 

“That is enough Gary.” Daniel put up his hand. 

“You have quidditch to think of.” Daniel turned his green eyes at Thomas. Daniel could see the hate burning up in his eyes. “Professor Nocturne can't always be there for you.” 

“Why would he need too?” Professor Walker came in with a croak. Much to Thomas dismay he had a small brown, bumpy toad resting on the brim off his hat. Shivering Thomas took a side step, placing Lars between him creature. 

“Professor Walker.” Daniel stood up a little straighter. “We're letting them -” 

“Get to their table?” Professor Walker looked at Daniel, Thomas swore the toad on his hat did too. 

“And getting to ours.” Weasley, Thomas believed that was his name. Stood up and wrapped his arm around Daniel's neck. “And you to yours.” With a wink and a smile. He dragged Daniel, and by default his groupies away. 

“I should've listened to my mother.” Professor Walker grumbled to himself and left with several croaks. That came from different places of his body. 

“Do you think he sleeps with them.” Pipa looked at Professor Walker. 

“I could believe it.” Bernard said wrinkling his nose. Thomas shivered and with more eyes on them. They made their way to the table. They had a simple breakfast, and went to their first period classes. Not giving them a chance to talk until Lunch. They had half the great hall to themselves. 

“What do you guys know about Harry Potter?” Thomas asked snagging an apple from the basket. 

“What do you want to know?” Bernard asked buttering a bun. 

“I heard he battled a large snake.” Thomas said rubbing his apple on his robe. 

“Who told you that?” Lars asked pouring Thomas and himself something to drink. 

“I had a talk with Professor Barlow last night.” Thomas left out some details, for the record, that wasn't a lie. It was Thomas only way to get around not talking about truths he didn't want to speak of. 

“I don't sleep.” Thomas shrugged off their questioning stares. 

“Among other things, he mentioned that Harry Potter battled a great snake.” “He did — in his second year.” Bernard nodded, biting into his bun. “In his first year he fought off a.” Bernard's eyes bulged, and he started to cough up the bun. Pipa hurried and passed him his goblet. 

“Fought off a what?” Thomas asked, his hands stopping on his apple polishing. 

“A mountain troll.” Lars said, his face frowning and turning dark in thought. 

“It looked like we were fighting a ghost.” Thomas said. Thinking back to the white tinted but see-though beast. 

“Ghost don't drain your energy.” Bernard said with a gasp. Putting down his goblet. “None that I heard of.” 

“It's only a coincidence, right?” Pipa said, pausing in her task of breaking down bread for Squeakers to eat. 

“If the ghost of a snake shows up — we'll find out.” Bernard said, making the atmosphere around the four tense. 

“Last night, I was walking around where we fought off that troll.” Thomas said, thinking back to the chamber, and the ghost of the girl in the girl's bathroom. 

“Why were you there?!” Lars said almost shouting. Causing a wave of furious whispering around them. 

“Shush!” Pipa said, leaning forward to whisper. 

“Let Thomas finish.” Bernard nodded and leaned forward, elbows on the table. 

“Professor Barlow was there too.” Thomas said, defending is actions. “Anyway, there is a ghost of a girl there.” 

“Moaning Myrtle.” Bernard whispered, keeping their conversation to their table. “She haunts the girl's lavatory — after dying there from the first basilisk hunt.” Thomas nodded, that was what Professor Barlow had said too. 

“I talked to her — Myrtle.” Thomas said. 

“I thought ghost hated you.” Pipa said, “Peeve's won't go near you still.” Pipa rubbed her twin braids, remembering the yanking they received, if Thomas was to guess. “She said I reminded her of someone.” Thomas waved his hand. “That's not my point.” 

“Who would you remind her of?” Lars said his frown deepening. 

“That doesn't matter right now.” Thomas said, whispering fast, so he didn't get interrupted again. “She said that someone tried opening the chamber of secrets.” 

“Students try that. It's like a dare.” Bernard shook his head. “They blocked that off after the war with -” Bernard swallowed. “Voldemort.” Bernard said with a slight quiver to his voice, his face even dropped a shade in colour. Pipa rubbed his arm. 

“Voldemort?” Thomas asked, unfamiliar with the name. 

“He was a bad wizard Thomas.” Lars said lacing his fingers together he tapped them in his lips. “He's the one who did all the horrible things to this school — during Harry Potter's stay here.” 

“The snake?” Thomas asked, his heart sinking as he already expected the answer. 

“His past self, apiece of his soul, that was locked in a book. Came to Hogwarts, though it being released here...” Bernard hands shook, and his eyes were on the table, while his voice trailed off. “Was my families fault.” 

“You are nothing like your family.” Lars said reaching across the table to pat Bernard's hands. 

“You don't know that.” Bernard said. “What if...” Bernard shook his head unable to finish his thought. 

“I may not know the details.” Thomas said, he reached out and grabbed Bernard's hands too. “But if who you grow up with — makes you who you are...” It was Thomas's turn to shake his head. “I would be doomed.” 

“You're right.” Bernard pulled his hands away from Thomas and Lars. Reaching out he held Pipa's hand which was still on his arm. 

“Of course they are!” Pipa said, turning her eyes to the table. “What should we do?” 

“It has nothing to do with us.” Lars said, knocking the table with his knuckles. “We should leave it alone.” 

“Neither did Daniel's sister, but everyone is blaming me for it.” Thomas looked at Lars. “What if the ghost troll, and Daniel's sister share a connection?” 

“She is a potter, that could be a connection.” Bernard mused, pushing his breakfast around in his plate. 

“We should look up more information on the Potter family.” Pipa said, clapping her hands together. “We should go to the library — at least we should have information.” 

“After dinner I have to go to my first class with Professor Nocturne.” Thomas gave Lars a sideways glance. 

“I'm going with you.” Lars said, his voice had no room for argument. Thomas had no intentions of disagreeing with him. 

“Good.” Bernard said with a nod. “I'll go with Pipa to the library.” 

“Team work!” Pipa said, bouncing in her seat. “We so have this!” 

“Yeah, we can do this. We have each other after all.” Thomas said, making everyone paused. 

“What?” Thomas said, tilting his head at their stares. 

“You're right Thomas, we have each other.” Lars smiled, a true smiled that took up his face. A great sight to see after troll fall out of last night. 

“I feel real confident now.” Pipa said taking a big bite out of a biscuit. “Let's do this.” Pipa gave a crumb smeared smile. 

“With fewer crumbs, I agree with Pipa.” Bernard said offering Pipa a napkin. “Divided we conquer, but together we stand. You focus on Professor Nocturne's night class.” Bernard grimaced when Pipa used the back of her hand to clean her face instead. “We got the research part figured out.” Bernard dropped the unused napkin to the table with a sigh. 

“Thanks.” Thomas said, he hadn't forgotten a word about what Professor Barlow had said. Especially about Vampire Bounds. Things could change. He could and so could Professor Nocturne, and their relationship too. It was time Thomas started to press for answers, and if he couldn't. Thomas looked at Lars. 

“I have no issue, pressing the man for answers.” Lars said picking up his fork to stab his fruit bowl. 

“Remember he is a Professor, Lars.” Pipa said. Offering Squeakers a piece of fruit. “You don't want to get into trouble.” 

“I know.” Lars said his smile making Thomas, and by the looks of it. Everyone else at their table doubtful. 

“Let's finish lunch and get to class.” Thomas said picking back up his apple, and taking a bite. Only to get his fangs stuck in the fruit without being able to finish the bite. Pulling hard at the apple, and with the help of a chuckling Lars. He was free of the apple. Bernard and Pipa were useless, they were laughing so hard the table shook. Even the mouse was on it's side laughing. Leaving Thomas red-faced and silently vowing to never eat an apple again. At least, not before cutting it up with his knife first.


	16. Bonds

“We just have to get through study hall.” Bernard said to Thomas and Lars after their last class of the week — potions. Thomas's mind was racing through the whole class, and in his defence he had a lot to think about. To Thomas, it felt a bit awkward to look at Professor Nocturne, but he was trying to change. He spent a great deal of time between the two ideas. Luckily, Thomas could worry and whip up a burn-healing paste. 

The same couldn't be said for Pipa, who in all honesty shouldn't be allowed near a cauldron. Or anything that involved a recipe. Thomas had watched, as a simple burn-healing paste. Turned into a small volcano shooting out small fires. Daniel and his group had ducked for cover. Throwing unhelpful remarks. Professor Nocturne waiting to see how poor Psto would react. Thomas was about to step in. Psto used his cloak to beat the creation back into Pipa's cauldron. Pipa grabbed a small lid and smothered the rest. 

“I am so sorry!” Pipa said patting Psto cloak, like it would fix the holes she had burn through it. 

“Maybe I can fix it?” He looked rather lost. 

“I'll get you a new one! I'll write my parents at Study Hall.” Pipa promised. Psto looked skeptical but accepted it with a nod. 

“Next time — don't add anything unless I tell you too.” Psto told her. Pipa nodded, and Psto left the class with a sigh and a bundle of books under his arm. 

“Okay, I'm ready!” Pipa turned, looking happy. Like she hadn't turned a burn heal into a small fire. It was kind of impressive, if Thomas stopped to think about it. 

“Potions is a mandatory class right?” Thomas asked Lars. 

“For the first six years.” Lars said with a smile on his lips. He had found the whole thing amusing. Thomas shook his head, Lars hadn't even bother hiding his smirk. 

“Well — you can't fault her enthusiasm.” Bernard said, walking in time with them. 

“What I lack in skill, I make up for in creativity.” Pipa said hugging her books to her chest, and joining in her group. 

“True.” Bernard said with a shy smile. That Thomas noted that he only used with Pipa. 

“I noticed how you dodged her creativity, by taking Evan's as a partner.” Lars said dryly. Evan's was another Gryffindor student — first year. He didn't seem to mind Thomas's group, but wanted to avoid the drama, and Thomas couldn't blame him. Bernard looked away a strike of red running across his nose. Looking as guilty as charged. 

“Thomas doesn't mind my creativity!” Pipa said with a pout. “Do you Thomas?” Pipa turned towards Thomas. 

“You are very good at cutting things.” Thomas had partnered with her once. All you could do with a train rack like Pipa, was give her a task, far away from the cauldron as possible. 

“See!” Pipa stuck her tongue out at Bernard. 

“Trying to make the woodworm pretty — by cutting it into a fun shape. Is not helpful.” Bernard said, walking into study hall. 

“Thomas said it was.” Pipa pointed to Thomas, who looked away from Bernard eyes. “He can't lie.” 

“Doesn't mean he can't find loop-holes.” Lars chuckled. He had figured out his plan to keep Pipa busy in potions class. He had even used it himself when they partnered up. 

“Loop-holes?” Pipa asked with a frown. 

“Oh, look out table!” Thomas avoided further questioning by darting ahead. Together they worked on their Herbology homework. Thomas was good at labeling the parts of plants — as related to potions class. Otherwise, he failed, horribly, at anything else in the class. Today a plant had crawled up into the ceiling to avoid Thomas. Professor Frost had partnered him with Bernard for the rest of the school year. He now had to write a thousand-word essay on how to approach magical plants. Bernard was helping him. 

Pipa was sluggishly dealing with History of Magic homework with Lars. Professor Bins was another ghost that wasn't afraid of Thomas. Thomas suspected it was because he didn't even see him. He came in and lecture without missing a beat. Professor Bins classes were so boring that many fell asleep to his monologues. Pipa included. 

Every study hall it was a battle to keep up for Pipa. Study Hall went by fast, and during dinner Pipa wrote that letter to her parents. Explaining what she had done to Psto cloak, Bernard, who had no interest in writing to his family; helped her out. 

Thomas and Lars wrote one to his parents. Thomas remembered to ask for some potions ingredients he needed. Christmas was coming, and he had a few ideas in mind for his friends. Lars at first wrote a quick couple of lines, but Pipa intervened. Once done, they used one of Lars's ravens as a carrier, and off their letters went. 

After dinner Bernard and Pipa went to the library — to look up things about Harry Potter. Lars and Thomas, made their way back down to the Potions classroom. Where Professor Nocturne was waiting for them. He wore a rusty red robe over an old fashion suit. He sat in a large backed chair with a small owl sitting on his shoulder. 

Thomas gave Lars a sideways glance. He could see his jaw twitching. Lars looked his way — his lips flattened into a thin line. Thomas nodded, he wouldn't say anything. Lars gave the corner of his lip a quick turn up. A force smile, was better than no smile in all, and rather brave Thomas thought. For a bloke he knew not a fan, and scared of owls. The classroom looked the same, but Professor Nocturne had moved most of the tables away. Leaving a chair in front, that he sat in, and two chairs; presumably for him and Lars. 

“I had an interesting talk with Professor Barlow.” Professor Nocturne raised a thick white brow into a high arch above his black eye. 

“Insisted. I tell you about Vampire Bonds. Despite this being our first lesson.” He raised a thin hand to scratch the white stomach of the owl. Their black eyes turn to crescent moon slits — Thomas thought he looked happy. “That is why — Star is here.” Professor Nocturne turned and looked and Lars. “Will that be an issue — Mr. O'Sullivan?” 

“No.” Lars said through gritted teeth. 

“Good. Sit.” Professor Nocturne said crossing his right leg over his left. 

“I am interested in hearing about it.” Thomas said. Trying to drive a wedge between Lars and Professor Nocturne's electric stare off. 

“Why?” Professor Nocturne offered his finger to the small owl — Star. They walked over to his fingers with a small delicate claws. 

“Full details. I'll know if you leave anything out.” Professor Nocturne gave him a long eye stare. One that stared right into his soul. He felt it from the tip of his toes to the tops of his pointed ears. He was glad his hair was long enough to hide their quivering. 

“Last night after...” Thomas paused. 

“The troll?” Lars said hos eyes on the owl on Professor Nocturne's hand. 

“Yeah, and my new...” Thomas sighed and rolled his tongue over his teeth. 

“Fangs.” Lars finished for him. 

“I went for a walk. I felt something pulling, or a pushing.” Thomas frowned, trying to explain the feeling that was inside him. “It was dark and heavy. It felt like it could consume me.” Thomas looked at the stone ceiling. With night and fall, the potions classroom was colder than it was in class. “Also, it felt like it was trying to help me?” Thomas said the last bit like a question, since he wasn't sure himself. Looking at Professor Nocturne, his face was unreadable like always. “I don't know. I'm not having that feeling now.” 

“Professor Barlow,” Thomas gulped, Lars's hand on his knee helped him finish. “Said I should ask you about Vampire Bonds.” 

“Where did this feeling lead you?” Professor Nocturne asked, placing Star on his knee. 

“To the girl's lavatory.” Thomas remembered the small snake he fingered on the tap side. “The entrance to the chamber of secrets.” 

“Why didn't you mentioned this at breakfast, or even lunch?” Lars shot out of his chair. “I thought you couldn't lie?” Thomas winced, technically he didn't lie...but Lars sound hurt, and that hurt him. 

“Sit down!” Professor Nocturne demanded his voice stern. His owl let out a high-pitched cry. Sitting Lars right back down. “Things are not black and white. You change your visions often enough.” Lars gave a sharp intake in breath. “You are far from the first one I have encountered.” Professor Nocturne said, his narrowing eyes into dark slits, Star imitating him to a t. 

“Now sit, listen and learn.” A wave of pressure filled the room. Turning the very air into a heavy weight that pressed down on them. Thomas slunk into his seat, shaking with the force of it. Lars was panting but remaining up right. His leaned form shook harder than Thomas was. He could see the vibration hurting him. Bead of sweat pooled on Lars's forehead. 

“Stop it!” Thomas couldn't take it anymore, and nether could Lars, if his stubborn friend would only omit it. “Both of you!” Thomas stood up himself. He threw up his arms and tossed the weighted air off of him. Lars sat down, his eyes wide and a swirl of colour that was unable to stop at only one. His mouth opened a few times, only to click shut again. 

“See?” Professor Nocturne leaned back in his chair. His little white bellied friend. Puffed u and hopping higher on his knee. “Thomas has abilities, like you, but unlike you. He can learn control them, or is that why you are interrupting it?” 

“What is that suppose to mean?” Lars said pushing himself up right on his chair. 

“What would your life be like without your cards?” Professor Nocturne asked Lars. Thomas kept quiet, and sat back down. Watching the two carefully. This was the most he had ever seen the Professor talk. “Think about it.” Professor Nocturne turned his attention back to Thomas. 

“I will only explain this once, so listen.” With a wave of his hand a pale red glow lit up the darkened space around them. Thomas looked at them. Watching intently, knowing Professor Nocturne would keep his word, and only explain once. Thomas was grateful he was explaining it at all. “Sirens. Your second mother. Was your father's Animal to Call.” The figure of a tailed woman formed from thin red light formed in the air. 

“A vampire needs help he can trust.” Professor Nocturne continued to explain. Thomas fingers dug into his knees, at the mention of his father. “Siren's are an odd choice, but spoke volumes of his soul.” 

“His soul?” Thomas asked, leaning forward. 

“Siren's are cold. Uncaring beasts, very different from the merpeople, that are more relatable.” Professor Nocturne magic turned into a vampire. Thomas could tell by the pointed ears. “They do own a nature much like vampires. Care only for territory, or in this case a select few.” Professor Nocturne's voice turned warm. “He was a vampire, with a vampire soul. A rare and powerful thing.” 

“Before the soul bond forms... darkness can bloom.” Professor Nocturne's image change into a dark flower. “Beat it and become a master.” The flower bloomed into a rose with brilliant shinning red petals. “Earning your bond, gives you a power and anchor.” The flower turned into an owl. Soaring outwards and disappearing into one of the dark corners of the classroom. 

“How do I find this bond?” Thomas asked breathless. It sounded amazing, and scary. All at the same time. 

“What if he doesn't?” Lars spoke up, bringing Thomas's attention back to him. Lars looked a bit pale, but his hands were folded calming across his chest. 

“Then he'll not be a master.” Professor Nocturne said. Thomas flashed back to an earlier conversation. 

“You would place me under the care of a master.” Thomas said, not liking the sound of that idea. 

“For yours, and everyone else safety.” Professor Nocturne said, the old chill returning to his voice. The earlier warmth gone — like a dream. 

“What can he do?” Lars said his voice rough, his brogue rough and vibrating. 

“Follow your instincts. Don't shut them off, or down, and trust in them.” Professor Nocturne looked Thomas in the eyes. His black gaze so dark. It reflected Thomas like a mirror. He was pale, and his long hair didn't help him out at all, and worse of all. He looked wide-eyed and sacred. 

“Is there a time limit?” Thomas asked in a whisper. 

“You have until I leave. Fail and you come with me.” Professor Nocturne said. His owl flew back to his shoulder. Tucking himself into Professor Nocturne's long white hair. 

“You can't take him!” Lars said throwing his arm out, and snapping them back to fist on his lap. 

“Ask your parents. If Thomas can not control his vampire nature, and gain his animal to call by the end of the year. He will leave with me.” 

“To protect others from me?” Thomas felt his confidence crumbling. Could he be the monster that everyone accursed him of? 

“I will.” Lars said standing up, he pulled Thomas up from his seat. 

“Are you going to give him a hint?” Lars asked. Professor Nocturne only gave a thin smile. 

“He never gives answers.” Thomas said, feeling numb. “Or you'll never learn.” 

“Help or hinder. Mr. O' Sullivan. Thomas's fate is entwined with your decisions.” Professor Nocturne's owl gave a small hoot. 

“Goodnight Professor.” Lars said his voice low in controlled anger. 

“Goodnight.” Professor Nocturne gave them a nod, and Thomas was pulled out of the classroom by Lars. His mind in a whirl, he let Lars drag him away.


	17. Expecto Patronum

“I do not like that man.” Lars growled. Letting Thomas go now that they had made it to the upper layers of the castle. Even away from the dungeons, Thomas felt cold. “He can't take you away. My parents won't allow it. I won't allow it.” 

“What if there right?” Thomas said, looking around, confirming that it's an empty hall. “What if I could turn into a monster?” Thomas's mind wandered to the worse scenario. “Even your parents couldn't keep me. Sirens don't sound like kind creatures either.” Vampires, and Sirens made up two out of three of Thomas's bloodlines — fate was not in his favour for him not to be a monster. 

“Back up.” Lars stopped his steps. “What do you mean there? Don't you mean he?” 

“People do believe I'm a monster.” Thomas' hand went to the necklace under his robe. Thomas usually forgotten about; tonight it felt heavy, like it was tied to his fate. Rubbing his thumb over the Celtic knot on the silver heart rubbed hard into his thumb. 

“I can feel the truth in that.” Thomas always thought that feeling lies — that stabbed or made him feel sick. Was the worst feeling ever. Leave it to school, to teach him, that the truth could feel much worse. Like a stab to his heart and a storm cloud over his feelings. 

“The only truth is that they are fools — along with that Professor of yours.” Lars grabbed Thomas by the shoulders. “You need control. Over that dark feeling that took you over when we fought the troll.” Lars burned a hole Thomas's, he couldn't pull away from him even if he wanted too. “That I can understand. We don't need Professor Nocturne to solve that.” Lars flashed a confident grin. 

“You have a plan?” Thomas asked, not sure where this was heading. 

“Always.” Lars said, running Thomas through the halls. His robe flying behind him. 

“What about curfew?” Thomas asked. Lars turned his head with a smile. 

“We have an hour.” Lars said, piling them into the Library ignoring the librarian stern glare. In quick strides they went to the back of the library to a table. Bernard and Pipa were surrounded by piles of books. Thomas and Lars slammed into their chairs, breathless. 

“It didn't go well, did it?” Bernard said putting down a thin book down on the table. 

“No.” Thomas shook his head. 

“We need your help.” Lars said leaning forward and whispering. 

“What do you need?” Pipa said, shutting the large book in front of her with a slamming of dust. 

“I need to find my Animal to Call.” Thomas said with a frown. “It is a tie to my soul and power.” 

“How do you do that?” Pipa asked frowning herself. Not asking for any details, or wondering what he meant. Only wanting to know, how she could help. 

“The blighter wouldn't say.” Lars slammed the table with his fist. Receiving a stern look from the older students in the nearby isles. “He did say if Thomas can't find it — he'll take him away.” 

“He can't do that!” Pipa shouted and stood up from her chair. 

“This is a library!” The student from before said to Pipa. 

“We're sorry.” Bernard raised a hand in apology, and pulled Pipa back down with the other. The student pulled out several books and grumbled away. 

“I'm going to contact my parents tomorrow morning, but this is tied to Thomas health as well.” Lars said. “Regular vampires can't take care of themselves.” 

“By becoming a master vampire. I can stay.” Thomas said, agreeing with Lars. 

“Aren't you to young, your only eleven. We only eleven.” Pipa said, her eyes wide as saucers. 

“Vampires are old, going by that, it isn't that odd.” Bernard said, tucking his hair behind one ear. 

“How so?” Thomas asked, he couldn't go without asking. Unlike Pipa. 

“Before, boys became men at the age of twelve.” Bernard shrug. “Girls could even marry then.” Pipa's mouth opened and shut, and wrapped her arms around herself with a shiver. 

“When's your birthday?” Bernard asked, his hands coming up for he could rest his chin on them. 

“December first.” Thomas said, “I guess he's giving me some extra time.” Thomas said trying to smile. 

“An Animal to Call is the bound of the soul.” Lars muttered to the table, his eyebrows bent in thought. “What can we do to help figure that out?” 

“Expecto Patronum.” Pipa whispered, coming back to life. She grabbed a book from the middle of the pile beside her. Making the whole tower wobble. “It was one of Harry Potter's more famous spells.” Flicking through the book, Bernard sat up straight, dropping his hands to the table. 

“I heard he was the youngest to pull off a full Patronus — a male white tail deer. I think.” Bernard nodded. 

“The Patronus represents that which is hidden, unknown but necessary within the personality.” Pipa read off from the book. 

“Sounds like the soul to me.” Bernard said, Thomas leaned forward. Personality had to be a part of the soul, right? 

“When a human confronted with inhuman evil, such as the Dementor. They must draw upon resources he or she may never have needed, and the Patronus is the awakened secret self. That lies dormant until needed, but which must now be brought to light.” Pipa read further. 

“Am I wizard enough to summon one through?” Thomas said his shoulders slumping. Only one part of him was wizard, the other two... 

“By inhuman, they mean evil, and you are not evil.” Lars said reaching out and taking Thomas's hand. Dragging him back to the library table, and out of his own thoughts. “Unless you think because I'm different.” Lars gave his hand a hard squeeze, letting Thomas know what he meant by different. “That I am evil.” 

“The Malfoy's have a long history — none of it good.” Bernard said, his eyes looking down for a breath before looking back up. The moment wasn't enough to stop the layer of sadness from showing in his honey eyes. “Ask anyone, and they'll think I'm dark wizard ... evil wizard.” 

“My parents are blood sucking lawyers.” Pipa shrugged, “but I don't have any issues, but you don't look evil to me.” Pipa raised her hand, waving it about. “You are ... like... a friendly vampire.” Pipa said with a smile. 

“Thomas the friendly vampire.” Bernard nodded, "Has a nice ring to it." and Pipa reached over and grabbed both Thomas's and Lars's hand. 

“Even if you begin to need blood one day. We'll always be friends.” Lars said, “I promised.” 

“We'll do this together. This weekend.” Pipa said, squeezing their hands. 

“Patronuses take forms that their casters might not expect. For which they have never felt a particular affinity, or (in rare cases) even recognize.” Bernard pulled the book over to him to read. “Every Patronus is as unique as its creator. Even identical twins have been known to produce very different Patronuses.” Bernard closed the book, and brought to his lap. “I'll sign this out. We'll use it over the weekend.” Bernard put his hand over top of Pipa's.“We'll get this Thomas. Believe in us.” 

“We won't let you go. You are our friend Thomas.” Pipa said giving Thomas a soft smile. 

“Believing in yourself wouldn't hurt either.” Lars said, before a shadow casting over of them cut them off. 

“It is time you get to your dorms.” Looking down her hook nose at them. Her steely eyes showed no withering. “Separate dorms.” Giving Lars a single shot glare. Lars lifted one pale brow. 

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” Lars smiled sweetly at the librarian. Thomas swore he saw the older women blush. 

“Just hurry.” She scurried off, her feet not making a sound on the hardwood floors. 

“Let's go.” Pipa said, standing up and slipping her hands out. “We actually learned a lot about Harry Potter. We'll tell you about it on the way to the dorm.” 

“I'm going to sign a few of these out.” Bernard said picking up a few books from his side of the table. “I'm interested in learning a bit more of the details. Hermione Weasley, a trusted friend of Harry's wrote several books about that time. It's very informative.” 

“You liked Neville Longbottom's book I found for you.” Pipa said, sharing a smile with Bernard. 

“Did you know he was a great Herbologist? And that our Head Master is his descendant?” Bernard's eyes sparkled in a way that Thomas saw only when plants were involved. 

“You should hurry, if you want to sign them out.” Lars said nodding his head to the librarian tapping her foot. 

“Come with me?” Bernard said, snagging another book off the table. 

“Scared of her?” Lars said taking two of the books of his arm filled pile. 

“Not if you're there, to sweet talk her were your Irish accent.” Bernard said with a laugh. 

“Then I'll lead the way.” Lars said shaking his head. 

“Thomas.” Pipa said holding Thomas back with a tug on his sleeve. Thomas stopped and looked at Pipa. It was the first time he ever was alone with her. He knew that Lars and Bernard were only a few feet away, but a private conversation? Without someone around? It never happened. 

“Yes?” Thomas asked, wondering if he should be feeling weird or worry about this. 

“You worry about a lot of things, huh?” Pipa said pulling on her pigtails with her hands. “You worry about what people think about you. How it can affect others, my mom says worrying is how she cares, and you care about others.” Thomas looked away and Lars laughing at the stern looking Bernard. 

“Thomas.” Pipa pulled on his robe again. “Thomas, you are also brave.” Pipa held onto the front of his robe. Her brown eyes looking into his eyes unblinking. “You ran to save Squeakers — when I couldn't even move.” Her eyes filled with tears, “I was so afraid, and when that troll had Lars and Victoria.” Pipa's hand shook on Thomas's robe. Pulling on his shoulders until it started to dig in. Thomas didn't pull away, couldn't pull away. Pipa's words were washing over him. Thomas could only stand there and let it wash away the fears that clung to him. 

“You jumped right in then too. Even yelling at Lars.” Pipa let go, and Thomas stumbled a step back. “What I'm trying to say. Is that you are a great guy Thomas. I'm sure you'll make a great vampire — if you let yourself be one.” Pipa wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Don't let the past with that Professor ruin your future with us.” Pipa gave him a wobbling smile. “Please.” 

Without letting Thomas say another word she ran to be with the Bernard and Lars. Thomas looked, just looked. Bernard stern, adult like tendencies that he had with everyone. Stopped with Pipa, like it did with both him and Lars. His flat, unreadable features, softened into a smile that made his bob-cut hair look like any other boy. Instead, of his usual sharp edges and cool appearance. Lars offered Pipa a handkerchief from his ring. She waved him off, but of course he was sweet-talking her into it. Thomas didn't need to hear what he said to know that. It was easy to figure out — it was Lars. 

He had been at school only a few months, and besides Lars, he had managed to make some amazing friends- hadn't he? Thomas didn't want to lose this. Had Professor Nocturne had come to him has Old Man, if he had been the one to explain all this too him. He would have left without a word, and done what he said without thought. 

Now — he had something he held dear. Something more important to him. He meant something to others now. They wanted him. They wanted to help him. Why would he ruin that? Taking in a shaking breath, Thomas took both his palms and smacked his face. The stinging help with the lingering doubt that fluttered in his mind. The sound made this friends and the librarian turn and look at him. Walking up to them. Thomas felt his earlier, but weak will return. 

Letting go of the past wasn't easy. Their voices not so easy to silence. Tonight they were gone — thanks to Pipa, of course. She was right. Thomas didn't need to his truth detecting abilities to know that. This morning he was all about changes, and rolling with what's happening. Instead, he was crumbling like wet wood, at the first poke. 

“Why did you smack your face for?” Pipa asked when Thomas caught up with them. 

“I'll tell you tomorrow.” Thomas said with a laugh. He couldn't shake of his ill feeling, but with friends like Pipa. He stood a fair chance of fighting them back enough to keep on trying. 

“Now I'm curious too.” Lars said, giving the librarian a small wave as they walked away. 

“If he's not telling me, he's not telling you either.” Pipa said, her earlier seriousness but a dream. With the return of her cheerful, and playful self. Thomas wouldn't have that any other way either, he made a metal note to tell her that too. 

Returning to their dorms. Lars gave them each a hug. Thomas took the chance to whisper thanks to Lars. Who pulled him in tighter. Bernard and Pipa talk to Thomas about their finds. They felt like they had a could grasp of things, if anything were to pop up. 

Pipa made Thomas vow not to worry himself throughout the night when she parted to his own dorm. Only after swearing with his pinky did she head to his own dorm with Bernard. Where, after making a similar promise to Bernard. Did he get to settle down to whittle some mouse furniture for Squeakers. Something that would make both the mouse, and it's owner happy. Occasionally he would stop and look at his pinky. A silly, but helpful reminder. That he wasn't alone, and he had help. He had friends. Like Pipa.


	18. Time

Thomas had managed to make one mouse size chair and table, by the time Bernard started to stir awake. He was happy with the results of his work. The pale wood was light, and easy to work with. Thomas even managed to make the legs of the table into a spindled design. Pulling off those tiny ball like indents wasn't easy, but he hoped Pipa and Squeakers would like it. 

Making them had given him some other ideas, he decided to leave those for Christmas. For the first time, Thomas had people to exchange gifts with, and he wanted to go all out. When they went out today he was going to see what kind of wood was out and about on the grounds. He's supply was ruining low, and who knew what kind of new wood was waiting for him out there? 

“Good morning Thomas. How was your night?” Bernard greeted him with a yawn. Stretchering his arms out to the fullest. 

“Good, I don't need to ask how you slept.” Thomas said with a grin. Bernard always knocked out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was no night owl — that was for sure. 

“I can sleep anywhere.” Bernard said with another yawn. 

“What did you make last night?” Thomas climbed out of bed. He had gotten changed doing the night, and was using his bed as a desk slash lounger. Shaking bits of wood shavings off his green robes. It was the weekend. The school let the student wear what they wanted to, within reason. Thomas wore the robes that Aunt Merry, Lars's mother had made for him. He showed Bernard the table and chair he had made last night. 

“A rocking chair?” Bernard said tipping the little chair back and forth in his hand. “You made a rocking chair for a mouse in one night?” Bernard shook his head and rocked the little chair in his hand again. 

“I only hope it's sturdy enough. I've never made one for someone to sit in before.” Thomas said taking the offered chair back and placing it in his ring to surprise Pipa with later. 

“I'm sure Squeakers will love it.” Bernard said crawling out of bed. Thomas gave him privacy to change, Bernard always wore a simple black robe on the weekends. Thomas didn't see the difference between that and his school robe, but it made Bernard happy. 

They headed out of the boy's dorm. They're one of the first to leave, the others were sleeping in, it was Saturday, and if Thomas slept too. He could get the appeal. Dreaming always sounded interesting to Thomas. It was like a movie your mind played for you, by what he all heard, who would want to leave half-way through their show? 

“Do you think Pipa's up yet?” Thomas said looking to the stairs to the girl's form. No boy could get up there. Not that he had ever tried, so they couldn't go up there and check up on her. 

“If I know Pipa. She was up before dawn and planning out our day.” Bernard said with a smile. “She worried about you.” Bernard looked at Thomas. “I worried about you, Thomas. You are always so silent about your problems. I should know. I am too.” Bernard shrugged his shoulders.Trying not to make a big deal out of it. 

“Families legacies are tough. I know that as well.” Bernard looked at his fingernails, and looked up at Thomas. “I'm here, if you ever need a midnight chat. I am no Lars...” Bernard paused and his mouth turned flat and downwards, into a torn grimace. “What I'm trying to say.” Bernard dropped his hands. “I am here for you too.” Bernard looked up the stairs of the girl's dorm. 

“Thanks Bernard.” Thomas left it at that. His offer meant as much as Pipa's words last night. He had some great friends at his side. He only needed to remember that, and tell them too. Looking at Bernard's profile, he was about to speak up. His words were cut off by a high-pitched scream. Bernard colour drain right out of his face, and if Thomas could see his own face. He was sure he would look no better. The scream had come from the girl's dorm. 

“Pipa!” Bernard said, looking towards the round at the door to the girls’ dormitories. 

“Let’s go,” Thomas said. He bounded forwards, pulled open the door and set off up the spiral staircase. Bernard was behind him, close on his heels. He knew he wasn't allowed up here, but surly since this was an emergency — it would be fine. He was on the sixth stair when there was a loud, wailing, sound came from under their feet. It sounded like the stone steps beneath them were screaming in protest. 

The steps themselves melted together to make a long, smooth stone slid. For a brief moment Thomas and Bernard tried to keep running. Legs running like crazy, Bernard even tried grabbing the sides of the walls. Despite to get to Pipa. That was before the stairs toppled them over backwards. Shooting them down the newly created slide, coming to rest on his back with Thomas on top of him. 

“This is ridiculous!” Bernard said, another high pitch scream came from up the stairs. Pulling Thomas back onto his feet. 

“Pipa!” Bernard shouted hoping to be heard. “Are you okay! What's going on?!” 

“Out of the way!” An older student with long black hair shouted. Sliding down the stairs which seemed determined to stay a slide. As long as Thomas and Bernard stood there. 

“What happened?” Thomas asked, his mind as messy as his robes. 

“It's your friend.” She paused, her face grimacing. “She's like the Potter girl. I'm sorry I need to get help.” She patted Thomas shoulder when she took off. 

“Like the Potter girl.” Bernard repeated, his steps retreating back until his back hits the wall. “No, she can't be right.” Bernard shook his head, deny her words. Thomas shook his head too. He couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. Thomas looked at the slid like stairs. Could he make it, if he had a running start? 

“Don't try it.” A deep, but calm voice appeared out of nowhere. Making Thomas jump almost his entire height in the air. His hand to his chest. He turned to see the blue strike hair of Professor Barlow. 

“Professor!” Thomas's shoulder shagged in relieve. He didn't have Professor Barlow for any other class than flying. A class Thomas would rather avoid, he like him the best out of all his Professor's. 

“It can't be true?” Thomas asked him, “Can it?” “I need to go see.” Professor Barlow said putting a hand on Thomas's shoulder. 

“Go check on Bernard over there.” Professor Barlow looked behind Thomas. Before flying up the stairs, his kilt and robe trailing behind him. Bernard was slumped against the wall, his thin frame mostly on the floor. 

“Bernard!” Thomas dropped to his knees to Bernard's side. Bernard was shaking. 

“It can't be Pipa, please Thomas, tell me it can't be Pipa.” Bernard pupil spun in his eyes. 

“I'm sure she's okay.” Thomas said, the pain in his gut threaten to knock him out. Thomas gritted his teeth through the pain. Not a lie, but not the truth. A grey area that cause Thomas quite a bit of pain. Avoided an answer wouldn't work here. Bernard needed to hear something good, even if it was white lie. 

“That hurt you to say.” Bernard eyes stopped their spinning to look at Thomas. “Sorry.” Bernard tried to stand, but his legs gave way under him. Thomas grabbed him and helped him stand up, and regain his footing. “I can do this.” 

“We can.” Thomas said, “We're friends, remember?” Thomas gave Bernard a forced smile. Trying to be brave, when he felt far from it. 

“Yes, we are.” Bernard said quietly. The stairs beside them shook, and groaned and screamed once again. Reforming into the stones steps they once were. Professor Barlow was walking down them. With a pale looking girl in his arms, and if the twin pigtails didn't give her away. The small white mouse, that looked like it too slept, curled up on her chest. Did. 

“Goddess, no.” Thomas whispered, pulling a page out of Lars's vocabulary. 

“Get Lars.” Professor Barlow said, his mouth pull tight. “And meet me at the hospital wing.” 

“I need to stay with her.” Bernard reached out and touched the Pipa's arm. 

“You go with the Professor Bernard.” Thomas said, he looked up at the Professor. “I'll get Lars” 

“Try not to run.” Professor Barlow said his voice gentle. Thomas nodded, but out of Professor Barlow's sight. He flew down the corridor's to the Slytherin's dorm. How did he know where it was? Lars had told him of course, he couldn't get in, but surly someone would get Lars for him. Thinking like mad on the way. Thomas vowed that he would claw his way through the entrance if he had too. Lucky for the Slytherin's entrance he didn't have too. 

“Lars!” Thomas called out on sight of an orange wizard robe, and rail of a long purple scarf. A combination only worn by Lars, on that Thomas was sure. 

“Thomas -” Lars started his eyes wide with surprise. Thomas cut him off. 

“It's Pipa! We have to get to the hospital wing.” Thomas said grabbing Lars by the hand he started to run. Lars said nothing he only gripped Thomas's hand tight, and they ran all the way there together. 

“Bernard!” Lars called, as they stormed the hospital wings doors together. Bernard was sitting chair-side. Where Pipa laid in bed, to all appearances she looked like she was in a gentle sleep. With her hands folded over her stomach, and a small white mouse sleeping on her chest. “Are you okay?” 

Bernard shook his head. “It took Pipa.” Bernard said, his serious face broken with tears steaming down his face. “She is so bright and bubbly — so different from everyone else — so kind.” Bernard looked at Pipa, his hands shaking on his lap. “Why is this happening?” Bernard's voice shook, and Thomas's heart broke off into another piece. 

“We will find out.” A short elderly-man with a short grey and black beard spoke up from behind them. His eyes were brown and looked kind. Thomas didn't recognize the man dressed in the simple grey and blue robes. With Professor Barlow at his side, he knew he had to be a Professor too. 

“He's Professor Longbottom.” Bernard said, drying his eyes and face with a handkerchief from Lars. 

“Yes, I am. I am the Headmaster here at Hogwarts Thomas. Though. I believe you were to terrified at the time I made my introductions at the beginning of the year.” He gave Thomas a smile that hid behind his beard, but he could see it move upwards. 

“Sorry,” Thomas said rubbing his palms on his robes. 

“No need to apologize Thomas.” Professor Longbottom raised one hand. “What I need from you, is to know what you all were doing last night. Before you saw young Miss Jones to her dorm.” 

“We were at the Library.” Bernard said, “Researching.” 

“Researching what?” Professor Longbottom asked with a quiver of his bushy brows. 

“Harry Potter.” Bernard said truthfully. 

“I know nothing about him, and asked them to look him up for me. While Lars and I were at my night class.” Thomas spoke up. Shifting his stance to stand a little in front of Bernard. Having kind eyes, did not mean he could pick on his upset friend. 

“He's not in trouble. You are not in trouble.” Professor Longbottom said waving his hand in front of his face. “We are trying to find out the cause behind these odd circumstances.” 

“Does this have anything to do with that troll?” Lars asked standing by Thomas, and successfully blocking Bernard from the Professor's line of sight. 

“Nothing you first years have to worry about.” Professor Longbottom said tucking his hands into his robe sleeves. “You have enough to worry about.” Thomas grimaced at the solid truth of his words. Lars wasn't done with him yet though. 

“What about Pipa?” Lars demanded, “Or the other girl — who you still haven't woken up. They are blaming Thomas for it.” Lars took a step forward. Standing right in front of the Headmaster of the school, a knight in orange and purple robes. 

“How can we, first years, not worry, when our friend is taking the blame?” Lars looked at him, his face stern demanded answers. 

“Lars, he is our Headmaster.” Professor Barlow stepped in. Getting Lars to stare him down instead. 

“Your midnight talk didn't help things.” Lars said his voice curt, staring down the Professor without a flinch in his steady gaze. The Professor's took it in their stride as well, not showing any reaction to Lars's words. Thomas couldn't tell if this was because they knew Lars was right, or because they knew Lars was upset. 

“Can't you tell us what happened to Pipa?” Thomas stepped in, hoping to stop Lars before he acted on his words. “I don't mind taking the blame, if we know the truth.” Lars looked at Thomas. 

“You shouldn't have too.” Lars said his hands shaking at his side. 

“People we blame me one way or another. I need to learn to deal with that.” Thomas said. 

“Your friend, like Miss Potter had her soul sealed.” Professor Longbottom said, taking a hand out to stroke his beard. “Be it your vampire or siren bloodline. They could not do that.” 

“Her soul... her soul was stolen.” Bernard whispered from behind them. Thomas and Lars exchanged wide-eyed looks. Sealed Thomas mouthed the words unable to repeat them.

“It is not gone, but sealed away.” Professor Longbottom said. “We are working on bringing them back, but are unable to find a trigger for it yet.” 

“What are you doing then!” Bernard stood up and demanded, pushing past Thomas and Lars. 

“And does this effect Squeakers too?” Pointed his finger at the sleeping mouse. 

“We believe he is the one protecting her soul.” Professor Barlow said calmly. “A guardian that is stopping, whatever it is, from finishing what they want.” 

“What is that?” Thomas asked, his heart pounding a mile a minute in his chest. 

“We do not know, and I am telling you this. Not because you demanded it, but to let you know. If you see anything -” Professor Longbottom stared straight at Lars. “That you come to either me, Professor Barlow or your own head of House Professor Walker, and not act on your own.” Professor Longbottom turned and look at Bernard and Thomas too. “All three of you. Need to promise me you won't act carelessly.” 

“I won't act on my own.” Lars said his eyes flickering at Thomas. 

“I promise not to act on my own either.” Thomas said, getting what Lars was hinting at. Thomas couldn't lie, but there was no way he was doing this alone. 

“Neither will I.” Bernard said standing back to stand beside them both. Professor Longbottom sighed and shook his head. 

“That will have to do.” Professor Barlow said with his own sigh. 

“Remember what I said.” Professor Longbottom said. “All the Professor's at Hogwarts are here for you three. You only have to reach out, and ask for help.” Professor Longbottom turned and walked away. Professor Barlow at his side. Only when they reached the door, and they were only. Did they start to talk. 

“Squeakers protected Pipa.” Thomas said walking over to stroke the little mouses head. “We need to help them both.” 

“We need to figure out what protected Emma.” Lars said, Thomas mind drew a blank. 

“Potter's sister.” Bernard said, coming up and stroking a stray hair away from Pipa's face. “I'll doubt he'll tell us anything.” 

“Then we'll ask the cards.” Lars said, his blond hair flying around him, and his eyes gave off a faint glow. 

“Those cards.” Thomas whispered even though it was only them there. Bernard eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a word. 

“Yes, we can't do it here.” Lars looked around. “The nurses might interrupt, and I'll need something of Pipa's, and Emma's.” Lars's gaze went behind Pipa's bed they were standing at. To the curtain of section to the back of the wing. 

“I'll get that. You guys get something of Pipa.” Lars strode off, and darted behind the curtain. Presumably where Emma Potter was resting. 

“What would be best?” Bernard looked to Thomas is eyes distant, sounding lost. Thomas took a deep breath. Steadying himself — for Bernard's shake. Thomas knew he like Pipa — a lot, This had to be hard on him. 

“What about I get one of her hair ribbons, and you go help Lars?” Thomas said, Bernard nodded and walked over to Lars. “We'll figure this out Pipa.” Thomas whispered to Pipa. Pulling the small ribbon thingy that kept her braids together. "Be strong. Give us time." 

“I can be brave.” Thomas's heard the wobble in his voice, it was hard, so hard, but he would find that bravely that Pipa saw in him. He would find it and use it to bring her back to them. For all their shakes. Wiping his arm across his eyes. Thomas dried the forming tears before he joined Lars and Bernard. Together they walked out into the yard. Looking to a safe place to see what the future or past could tell them.


	19. A Safe Place

Finding a quiet place in Hogwarts on a weekend, may seem like an easy task. Thomas found the reality was far from it. The library, which Bernard first suggested. Was filled with student doing their homework or fooling around. 

Sending the school librarian into a series of angry squawks. Lars thought the bathrooms might be ideal, but they had gain popularity. Due to the Golden Trio, so Bernard called them. This left the three of them in a hallway, thinking on where they could go. 

“Can't we do this outside?” Thomas asked again, though Lars had already rejected the idea. Resting his hands on his knees. Looking around for a quiet place was tiring — and it was impossible for them to dodge the whispers and the stares. Gossip travelled fast at Hogwarts. From Thomas could hear — he had struck again. Dining on his own friend. 

“Outside is too popular, Asad's hut especially.” Lars shook his head. Denying his idea once again. 

“Hagrid made the hut popular after the war, and the new Keeper of the Keys — is as likeable.” Bernard agreed with Lars with a frown on his pale face. “I do have one other idea, but...” Bernard brought his hands up to his mouth covering whatever he was saying with a mumble. 

“What is it?” Thomas said, watching some other firsts years in yellow ties dart pass them. 

“Cross your fingers.” Bernard said, his voice firm and serious. 

“Why?” Lars asked, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Thomas felt better knowing he wasn't the only one. 

“We need to get to the seventh floor, and who know how many people we'll pass by on the way.” Bernard shoulders shook, and his mouth turned into a grim line. 

“Is that bad?” Thomas asked. Bernard was quick to nod. 

“Bad luck.” Bernard pulled his hands deep into his black weekend robes pockets. He shivered again, like he was cold. “We could use some good luck.” 

“You must hate class changes.” Lars said looking at Bernard, with a quirk of his lips — it bared some resemblance to a smile. Not one Thomas would like to see, but really? What did they have to smile about? 

“You have no idea.” Bernard said bunching his shoulders up with another strong shiver shaking his body. 

“I'll cross my toes if I have too.” Thomas said, standing upright. 

“Let's get to this seventh floor.” He crossed all four of fingers on both hands. Thomas even tried crossing the two already crossed fingers, but he couldn't get it to work. His hands were too small. 

“You only need to do it on one hand. Don't want to overdo it.” Bernard said waving his hand out of his pockets to show his right finger crossed over one another. 

“In my right hand the sword and in my left the shield.” Thomas thought out loud, thinking of another poem from his late night reading. 

“Well, gentlemen shall we banish our swords?” Lars said waving his crossed fingers on his right hand. 

“Lets.” Bernard nodded, his shoulders relaxing. He only froze once on the stairs up — when they passed an upper class-man. Thinking back Bernard acting like that on the boat ride to Hogwarts as well. Thomas made a mental note — that Bernard got superstitious when stressed. 

“Where are we going?” Lars asked once they reached the sixth floor. Thomas wondered why, with all this magic, wasn't there a quicker way to get up to the next floors. 

“To check out the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.” Bernard looked around, and spoke with a whisper. 

“Who is Barnabas the Barmy?” Thomas asked as they reached the top of yet another staircase. 

“He was a wizard who tried to get trolls to do ballet.” Bernard said with a straight face. Thomas was baffled. In his head he pictured the monster they faced on Halloween — alive of course. Dancing. 

“Ballet is a dance, right?” Thomas asked to confirm his mental image. That of large, ugly creatures wearing pink dresses and leaping across a stage. 

“Surly, some of them enjoyed it.” Bernard said with a shrug of his shoulders. Thomas grimaced. The mere idea was plain gross, a troll in tights? It was Thomas turn to shiver. 

“Don't be like that Thomas. That's muggle thinking.” Lars shot him a wink, letting Thomas in on his joke, but the mere idea? Thomas was sure it had some wizards thinking the man was a bit off as well. 

“Do tapestries talk?” Thomas asked, trying to fill in the void of why they were heading up this why. Besides to look at a strange piece of art. 

“They can move, but I'm unsure of talking.” Lars said pursing his lips in thought. “Something to do with the fabric?” 

“Here we are.” Bernard said stopping them in front of an enormous tapestry hanging off the wall. “Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt.” Thomas stared at the picture. There were eight trolls training on it, some even moved. One spun around happy in his pink skirt. Another found pleasure beating the poor wizard on the colourful fabric. 

“I need to start paying attention to my surroundings better.” Thomas muttered to himself. He should have noticed a giant piece of fabric with dancing trolls on it. He must have passed this on the way to Astronomy class, right? Thomas scrunched up his nose in thought, but came up blank anyway. 

“No, you should stay this way — it's cuter.” Lars said with a chuckle. 

“You sound like your mother.” Thomas muttered still trying to pull this tapestry out of his recollection. 

“The tapestry isn't why we're here.” Bernard said. Taking them both by the arm. “Walk with me and think only about us needing a private room, a safe room. Especially you Lars — need to think carefully…” Bernard nodded to Lars. “I'm not sure what we're doing or what we need.” 

“Okay.” Lars agreed with a slow nod. 

“We need to do this three times.” Bernard said taking a deep breath. 

“Let's go.” Thomas thought hard about what they needed. Someplace safe for Lars to read, a soft place to sit or even lay down if Lars needed it. Thomas thought back to the night, Lars had vision in front of him. He thought of the calm energy Lars's mother offered. Of the clothes Lars needed to wipe his sweat. He kept his thought on that. Letting Bernard lead them down the hall, and up the hall and half-way down the hall again. Bernard stopped after that. 

“It didn't work.” Bernard said with a soft voice. Filled with sorrow, more than disappointment. It made Thomas rubbed his chest in sympathy. 

“What was it suppose to do?” Lars asked Bernard, patting his shoulder, much in the way he did with Thomas when he was upset. 

“The Room of Requirement is a magical room which can only be found by those who need it.” Bernard said looking at the blank stone wall before them. “It's called the Come and Go Room by house-elves. My family wasn't kind, to house-elves — we were especially cruel.” 

“Not we Bernard.” Thomas said, wanting to tell him he knew the difference between a family, and a person. “They. Not you.” Bernard kept looking at the wall, his ears not hearing. Thomas looked at the large square stones that made up the cold unfeeling wall. 

“The room was badly damaged by a fire, during the war.” Bernard said looking down to his feet. “I had hoped it might work for us.” 

“I've heard of that - vaguely. I don't think anyone has opened it since then.” Lars said looking to the same wall. “I didn't know it was here.” 

“It's not. Not anymore.” Bernard wiped his hands over his face. “I thought this would help — I'm sorry.” Thomas walked up to the wall. He heard Lars talking to Bernard in the background. He placed his hands on the wall. The stone felt rough on his hands, and dug into his palms. Both strange and familiar — Thomas felt the darkness within him stirring. 

His heart started beating wildly in his chest. Tomas was trying not to fight the feeling, he wanted to feel the flow of it, but he didn't want to lose control. Not that he had hurt anybody with the Troll incident, except for the troll. 

He had to learn to use it, to become stronger, strong enough to save his friends. Thomas started to pant, his breath running ragged out of his mouth. His palms dragging across the stone wall until it hurt. He had to control this strength. Thomas had to find the way. To help them. 

To help Lars — who was so strong, standing up to the pain of his visions. He needed a safe place to practice, and heal. Bernard, trying to help, but struggled under the weight of his heritage. They were the same in that. Thomas knew he loved plants — Herbology was the class Bernard was the happiest in. If not for him, his Mandrake would have died the first week under his care. 

Thomas wanted a place he could dive into that love — without worrying about prying eyes. Pipa, Thomas's eyes teared at the corners, blurring his vision. They needed a safe place to find out how to save her. A place they could bring her back to. Somewhere that was theirs, and theirs alone. Where all of them could be themselves, and Bernard said this was the place — then this was the place! 

“Open up!” Thomas demanded. Pounding the wall. The darkness came out of him and hit the wall with his next strike. 

“Thomas your hands are bleeding!” Lars voice pierced his fog, but Thomas was determined to get through to the magic, and it had to be magic, in the wall. 

“Please!” Thomas strength left him, and the darkness coiled back up into an unreachable coil. Thomas dropped to the floor. Bernard was on his knees by his side. 

“Thomas!” Bernard grabbed his hands. “You shouldn't have done that.” Thomas didn't look at Bernard or hear the beginning of Lars lecture. His hands were fixed on the blood, his blood disappearing into the wall, and underneath it. Grains, thin lines — that Thomas recognized right away. 

“It's wood.” Thomas whispered, trying to pull his hands free to touch it. To confirm it's real. 

“Stay still,” Lars said pulling out his silver wand. “Episkey.” Bernard held Thomas hands palms up for the spell to work. Any other time Thomas would have loved to witness a bit of magic at work. Especially Lars's magic — who excelled at it so well. Thomas was already distracted by the magic happening behind Lars. The stone wall was turning into wood. A dark wood, worn and cracked with age. It grew large and large the swirling pattern. A slit formed between the circle, that's when Thomas figured out what it was forming. 

“A door.” Thomas whispered. Lars spun around, and backup as he say what he saw. A door, now rapidly fanning out from the circle where Thomas had pounded his hands. Bernard stood up and walked to the wall in a daze — unable like either of them to believe what they saw. Once finished, a large door had been formed out of the stone wall. Complete. 

Thomas could see black charring on the doors surface — like it had survived a bad fire. Over-top of the wood laid an eccentric metal work design that Thomas couldn't describe. It was stunning, and old, much like the rest of the school. A creation of magic. 

“The Room of Requirement.” Bernard whispered — then he snapped to action. “Hurry inside!” Bernard whipped his head around — there was no one else in the hall. Lars was the first to react. Dragging Thomas to his feet, while Bernard pulled open the door. Tumbling inside, Thomas had to skip a few steps to keep himself upright. 

“So, this is the place?” Lars said looking about. Thomas took the chance to look about himself. 

“Wow,” Thomas mouth dropped open, stunned silent by the space. Not only in sight, but in smell and feel of the space. 

“Smells like your place, Lars.” Thomas took in a deep breath of the sharp lavender. That always reminded Thomas of clean bathroom of the O'Sullivan home. Unlike the scent of the orphanage bathroom, which Thomas rather not remember. Bright orange, and other sweet scents mixed into an earthy blend. Leaving Thomas feeling very relaxed. 

“Our place.” Lars corrected, “but, yes it does.” Lars walked into the room. His steps going unheard. Thomas looked down to see dark, vibrate wood — the most beautiful Thomas had ever seen. Well laid- if Lars's silent footsteps were anything to go by. 

“This is bloody brilliant.” Bernard stepped forward himself, drawn into the room. 

“Ah!” Bernard rushed forward in a swirl of black robes. Thomas looked to see Bernard rush around a large round wooden table. To a long sweep of dark cherry wood cabinets. Covered, in green, and pots. It looks like the school's greenhouse had shrunk to a miniature collection on the back wall. Lars had disappeared to the left. Where a large fireplace caught Thomas's eye.

It took the entire wall there. Inside was a roaring fire. In front was a rich and flamboyant purple rug. That flickered a shimmering gleam from the firelight. Lars looked above to the various crystals, handing from fin gold chains. They glowed dark rainbow's — that bounced off each other and light up the seating underneath them. Lars ran his hand on the velvet fabric on the couch, that Thomas could see was soft and comfortable from here. 

After admiring the cherry wood that matched the cabinets that Bernard was still admiring. Thomas turned to his right, and walked around the table. Ignoring the whatever laid in the darkness under the loft. Thomas headed straight to the black metal spiral staircase. Walking up it in slow steps. 

Thomas felt a fluttering in his chest at the sight at the top. Towering bookcase made up the walls. Volumes, upon volumes of books sat on their shelves. Not only that — but boxes as well. Thomas walked over to them brushing his fingers along the leather spines. They were smooth and worn from being well-read over the years. He wondered — where did they all come from? Old glass vials, Thomas recognized them right away as potions ingredients. 

“Amazing.” Thomas picked up a small navy box in front of him. With gentle finger he lifted it's edge to peek inside. “An egg?” Thomas tilted his head, “maybe a stone?” Holding the box in one hand. Use the other to confirm, that it was an egg. It was warm to the touch. “Could it still be alive?” Thomas tilted the box, rolling the soft brown egg into his palm. 

“Thomas, come back down!” Lars called from below. 

“Coming!” Thomas rolled the little egg back into it's box. Closing the lid, Thomas went to put it on the shelf — where he found it. Something stopped him. “It might be alive.” Thomas looked down at the navy box. Pipa would take care of it, if she was here; Thomas validated to himself. Pocketing the box, egg and all into his robe pocket. 

“Thomas?” Bernard called up. Darting back to the stairwell. Thomas spun around the steps, working his way down. Bernard and Lars were over by the fireplace. 

“What is this place?” Thomas asked once face to face with his friends. “It's amazing!” 

“Room of Requirement.” Bernard said the name once again — like it meant something to Thomas. Thomas turned his head to Lars for answers. 

“I don't recall hearing about this room.” Lars shook his head, Thomas blinked — huh, it was unlike Lars not to have all the answers. “I don't know everything.” Lars said, reading his mind. 

“You know enough,” Thomas said with a smile, he was still suspected Lars could read minds — or at the very least. Read his. 

“It is a room that a person can only enter when they have real need of it. Three seems to have some effect on its appearance. When it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker's needs.” Bernard said sitting down hard on the couch. “Though I brought us up here, I really did not think it would open. I hoped, but...” Bernard trailed off. 

“So, if you were lost... would it help you get to class?” Thomas asked, trying to figure out the space. Bernard shrugged. 

“Its more of a room, to place things, or to hide.” Bernard said, killing Thomas short lived short-cut theory. “It would turn into a restroom, at least it did once.” 

“Once?” Lars asked, sitting down beside Bernard. 

“The entire room was turned into a sea of flames, no one has been able to accessed again since.” Bernard said rubbing his hands up and down his pants. 

“Was it in one of those books you-” Thomas swallowed hard, struggling to say Pipa's name out loud. “That you, and Pipa found.” 

“Maybe, it would be there.” Bernard let out a harsh laugh that made him sound like a much older man. “My Great Grandfather, he helped destroy this room. He helped cause the whole battle held here at Hogwarts.” Bernard squeezed his robes between his fingers until they turned white. 

“That must be hard for your family to deal with.” Lars said, keeping his hands to himself. Both him and Lars watch Bernard — he seemed so fragile, yet so angry. 

“Ha!” Bernard spat. “The family manged to endure — to thrive!” Bernard's hands shook and his eyes turned red — with what Thomas thought were tears of both anger, and sadness. “My father is rather proud of it.” Bernard lips turn into an ugly sneer. “You can imagine his delight if he found out this room was back, and I had access to it.” 

“Don't tell him.” Lars said his voice firm and confident. “He'll never know.” 

“I've never been able to hide anything from my father,” Bernard face went pale, and he stared off into the distance. “Nor mother or even my younger sister — and she'll be here next year.” Bernard dropped his face into his hands. “I wish I never came here — then I could deny it.” 

“It's not like he'll ask you about it directly.” Lars said in a slow steady voice, reminiscent of when Thomas had first meet Lars. It was his calm tone he used to keep him, and now Bernard from drifting into panic. 

“I can no more lie - than Thomas.” Bernard said lifting his face, he looked to Thomas. “How do you do it?” He looked hopeless, and Thomas wasn't sure he was one who should be giving answers. 

“You said the Room of Requirement, gives you what you need?” Thomas asked, dodging the question, and thinking of how to avoid the threat of an little sister. “Could we ask it not to let anyone in but us?” Thomas felt a wave of air, and Lars and Bernard did too. Both sitting up straighter and looking around. 

“Um, thank you?” Thomas said outwards to the room. 

“Who are you thanking?” Bernard asked looked at Thomas with wide eyes. 

“The room?” Thomas said looking around. “I think it'll keep our secret.” Thomas felt a rush of warmth from the fireplace. “Yeah, I think it will.” Thomas nodded feeling confident. 

“Then it's settled.” Lars said looking around the room with weary eyes. “Thank you.” Lars thanked the room as well. Thomas's nodded, it felt like the right thing to do. 

“I can't say I understand- about your family, Bernard.” Thomas wouldn't even touch that subject, he was the worst kind of liar — has he simply couldn't do it! “What I do know — is that you are my friend. Not your sister or the rest of your family, unless you care... why should I?” Thomas said getting down on the floor, on the other side of the table, that sat in front of the couch. The heat of the roaring fire felt warm on his back. 

“It's not that simple.” Bernard said leaning on his knees to talk to Thomas. “I wish it was.” 

“Your great grandfather was a bad guy, right?” Thomas asked, Bernard nodded. 

“Not only them.” Bernard whispered, the picture of misery. 

“You are not, right?” Thomas asked moving his robes, to place the pocket, and it's contents to the safety of his lap. 

“No, I would never!” Bernard shot up from the couch. 

“Then, what's the problem?” Thomas asked looking up at Bernard with a frown. He was confused, Bernard looked no better. 

“What Thomas is trying to say, Bernard.” Lars pulled Bernard back onto the couch by his elbow. “Is that we are your friends, and that we will never judge you by your family, and when your sister comes. We'll deal with her — together.” 

“Isn't that what I said?” Thomas asked looking back and forth between the two. 

“No.” Both Bernard and Lars said together, making the pair laugh. Thomas sighed, he was sure he did, but since Bernard felt better, and for now they had a safe place — so, he let the matter drop.


	20. The Cards

“What are we going to do with this?” Thomas pulled the ribbon he took from his ring storage, placing it on the table. Getting them back to why they were here— Pipa. 

“Yes,” Bernard folded his arms across his chest, he sounded a bit uptight, but his hands had regained their colour. “What are we going to do with that?” 

“I don't want this to spread, you understand.” Lars started and Thomas nodded, already knowing what he was going to say. 

“Like Thomas ability to tell truths. I'll keep it to myself.” Bernard said his face so hard, and cold. Thomas swore he heard his teeth grit together. 

“I believe you.” Lars said with a hand on Bernard's shoulder. “I'm a seer, Bernard.” Lars didn't beat around the bush, and said it outright. Thomas watched Bernard eyes pop open, along with his mouth. He shut it a few times, and he uncrossed and recrossed his arms. 

“Are you...” Bernard started to say but trailed off with a shake of his head. 

“Am I what?” Lars dragged out his Irish brogue. Making Bernard give him a faint smile. 

“Good?” Bernard asked grimacing as he said it. Thomas winced, that sounded bad even to him. 

“Asking if I'm a fraud?” Lars asked with a lifted brow. Bernard hide his face in his robe sleeve with a robe of his nose.

“Yes – sorry. People do fake it Thomas.” Bernard looked at him like he was going to get angry. Thomas only shrugged. 

“People lie, I get it Bernard.” Thomas really did. A seer's ability isn't something everyone possessed, people who wanted it, but didn't have it. Would lie. In that fact, Thomas had no doubt. 

“I'm good Bernard. More than I like to be.” Lars said with a sad smile of his own. 

“This is not going to make you sick, is it?” Thomas asked in a slow and quiet voice, not wanting to upset Lars further. 

“I'll only be reading cards. It's not like my visions, that appear on their own.” Lars pulled a deck out of his colourful robes. “I'll be okay, Thomas.” 

“Sick? Do visions make you ill?” Bernard's brows pinched together in worry. “I've never heard of that.” 

“No.” Lars said. 

“Yes.” Thomas said at the same time. Making the two battle it off with stubborn looks. 

“You got sick in the summer.” Thomas pointed out, breaking off to his first line of defence — the truth. Lars shook his head. 

“That is a rare event.” Lars said, and Thomas chest tingled. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth. Thomas gave Lars his best glare. “It won't with these — I swear.” Lars crossed his heart with his card deck, but it was the clear feeling his straight and open gaze gave him. That made Thomas nod, and back down. 

“Thomas?” Bernard asked, without asking. Thomas looked at Bernard and gave him a nod. He was telling the truth. 

“Thanks for believing in me.” Lars said dry as the castle walls were hard. 

“I believe in your stubbornness.” Bernard said with a crooked smile. Thomas nodded, completely agreeing with Bernard's words. Lars was stubborn – not at all like him. 

“All right, you turn coats. Let's get this picture playing.” Lars said, pulling a piece of black fabric out of his own ring. “This two items will, in theory, act as a conduit.” 

“Theory? You don't know for sure?” Bernard asked, tucking his hands inside his robes. It didn't stop Thomas from seeing the shaking of his hands. He was calmer, but still unnerved. Thomas thought it was best to look the other way. It's not like he had an answer to make his problems go away. 

“I've never done a reading for another.” Lars said taking out a deck of card, not from his ring, but from an inner robe pocket. Holding a black deck that reminded Thomas of the night sky with its white silver flecks. “I've only done them to guide my own actions, or to help understand my own visions.” 

“How do you know it's going to work?” Bernard said, his voice cracking. “How do you know it'll help us save Pipa?” Bernard swallowed hard, taking some shaking breaths to control himself. 

“Belief is the most important part.” Lars said his quiet voice ringing through the room. Making the hairs on Thomas's neck stand up on end. A feeling like when Lars eye's glowed — stopped Bernard's more doubts from leaving his mouth. It was hard for Thomas to describe. Bernard just stopped shaking, and he shared a look with Lars. 

Thomas couldn't see what it meant, only that something right then and there had an exchanged. Thomas watched Bernard shoulder's square back, and the more confident Bernard return. With a resolve that stopped his unseen hands from shaking his robes. Could this be part of a seer's power? Thomas didn't know, but then again he never doubted it. 

“I believe in you Lars.” Thomas said, his voice above a whisper. Not wanting to break up the exchange that was happening in front of him — Thomas waited. 

“I know.” Lars said turning away from Bernard — who was visibly relaxed again. That was the thing different between Bernard and him, when he first heard about it — he never doubted. He only believed. Perks of not growing up in a magical family, is that you take magical talents at face value. At least that was how Thomas worked with any new magical encounter. Believe until proven otherwise. 

“I get it.” Bernard said crossing his arms across his chest he leaned back into the purple fabric of the couch. Looking tired, he asked. “Can I help?” 

“Listen. Sometimes — these cards work through me, and I miss information.” Lars said, looking to Thomas. “Can you move the table closer to me?” Lars folded his legs across one another while remained seated on the couch. Thomas moved the table close enough that Bernard had to fold his legs up onto the couch to make room. “First I need to cleanse the area. You two can help. Follow my lead.” 

“Close your eyes.” Lars started, while Thomas was staring into the back of his eyelids. “Take a deep breath, visualize a light cleansing the space.” Rain, rain was cleansing, Thomas pictures, like Lars asked. Light, but to Thomas it was rain, washing away all their shared fears, and cleaning the surrounding area. “Think of something that can protect you, protect us doing this reading.” 

“Please don't question it, or open your eyes!” Thomas frowned, squeezing his eyes shut for he wouldn't open them to question it. why would they need that? Thomas gave himself a metal shake, he had only said moment ago that he believed in Lars — why act doubtful now? Something protective? Thomas frowned again — his mind drawing a blank. 

“It can be an object or even a person.” Lars voice kept an even, rhythmic tone. Thomas's hand drifted not to his pocket knife — his usual go to, but instead to the heart shaped locket. Laying on his chest beneath his robes. An object that he generally forgot he even wore, but when Lars brought up protection. It was the first thing to come to mind. After nothingness that is. 

“Now open your eyes.” Lars sat cross-legged on the couch. Hands holding his deck on his lap. He looked peaceful? Thomas expected the glow to reappear in his eyes, but instead it looked like it went inward. Giving Lars this air about him. Thomas couldn't look away, if he could, he doubted Bernard wasn't capable either. 

“Let begin the reading.” Lars said is voice still holding the calm quality, but it sounded firmer — older. Did Lars see a future, by getting it from his future self? The idea was wild, but made Thomas wonder. He made a note to asked that, when the time was right, and now it wasn't that time. “What I'm about to do is a Celtic cross — it answers a question.” Lars said shuffling the cards. 

“What is the items from Pipa and the Potter girl for?” Bernard asked, the three of them were speaking in whispers. The energy in the room felt thick, and not something that he should disturb. 

“To connect to the question — I think.” Thomas whispered watching the cards, almost roll in their shuffle in Lars's hands. 

“Thomas is right — now let's lay the cards.” Lars put the deck down on the table, right on top of Pipa's hair ribbon and the piece of robe Lars's took of Daniel's sister. “This is a ten card read. We'll talk through it as we go. Ready?” Both Bernard and Thomas nodded. They were ready — and so Lars flipped over the first card. 

On the card was an older man, with long golden hair, and eyes like a storm. To Thomas, he was upright, but that was because he was sitting on the other side of the table from Lars and Bernard. Red roses hung above his head, and in his hand was a candle burning at both ends. His eyes narrowed, and he slammed the candle down on the rough wood table in front of him. Making both him and Bernard jump — Lars remained unmoved his eyes watching the card. Before lifting a sword and cutting the candle in two. Only to have the candles burn to nothing. 

“Does the man on the card look a little like you?” Bernard asked, “Or is it only me?” 

“My parents had these made, its thought that it would help me connect to the deck.” Lars said, his eyes narrowing on the cards. “Me — I'm not so sure.” 

“Is it your future self?” Thomas asked the burning question on his tongue. Forgetting all about asking it later. “Did another seer make these for you?” 

“You can be rather perspective at times Thomas.” Lars gave him tired smile. “Again, I'm not so sure about that. At least these cards can be helpful — when they want too.” 

“Sounds like you.” Bernard said — under his breath but it didn't go unheard. Lars let it go with a simple raise of his eyebrow. Thomas wished he could do that. It seemed like such a handy gester – raising ones eyebrow. 

“Back to the card — the first represents our question. What is happening here, or to out Pipa?” Lars said tapping his finger in front of the card. “The magician reversed. Being misled by a charming manipulator, a manifestation of desires.” Lars frowned. “A choice.” 

“Someone is making a choice to hurt people?” Thomas asked pointing at the two dark spots where the split candles were. “Doesn't look like it'll end well.” 

“What would they want with souls?” Bernard said, resting his hand on his chin. His honey brown eyes intent on the card. “To feed off them? Like a Dementor?” Bernard looked at Thomas, his blank looking face must have made him add a explanation. “Dementors are dark creatures that consume human happiness, and even souls.” Thomas shivered, what a horrible thing to exist. 

“Squeakers could have acted like a shield, protecting it from being consumed.” Lars said, “Acting the part of a Patronus. The animal that comes from your happiest memories.” Lars explained. 

“Like Potter's deer?” Thomas mused. Thinking back to the conversation they had last night. Squeakers did love Pipa. He never left her side – though he had initially belonged to another. 

“The next will tell us what crosses or tries to stop us.” Lars pulled the card off of the top of the deck. Laying the card horizontal across the first. “An upright devil,” once again an older looking Lars. Siting high on a stone block. With people chained at his feet. Thomas swore he could hear the chains rattle when he whipped them about. 

“That can't be good.” Bernard said, shivering. There was a lot of that going around today. 

“Trapped in an ideal, or lost to greed and desires.” Lars said, the look he gave Thomas made him wince. “Like that Professor of yours?” 

“He is not bad.” Thomas whispered looking away from both the card, and Lars, as they both looked to be judging him. “He's simply... moody.” Thomas paused before getting the right word. Thomas nodded, moody sounded much better than dark or morose. 

“Lars is on to something, Thomas.” Bernard spoke up. Thomas looked at Bernard, who looked at him with pity. 

“Professor Nocturne isn't greedy! He live in a small cabin — with nothing for years!” Thomas insisted slamming his palm on the table. Making all three jump. “Sorry.” Thomas said tucking his hand onto his lap. Rubbing the small egg in his pocket. To keep his hands busy. 

“It could be someone else.” Bernard said to Thomas with a small smile. “Can the cards say for sure?” Lars shook his head. 

“Even for a seer. Card reading isn't black and white.” Lars sighed and looked to Thomas. “At least be careful around him?” Thomas reluctantly nodded. “Then to the next card — it'll tell us the best outcome.” Lars took a card and laid it upright underneath the first two. The blonde man sat on a spinning wheel that he turned with one hand. He offered them a wink from his throne. “Wheel of fortune. It means anything is possible — and it's usually positive.” 

“Then Pipa will be okay?” Bernard asked leaning forward towards Lars. 

“We shouldn't let our guard down, but yes. I think so.” Lars said, his face stern and unreadable. “We should never assume Bernard, by not acting when we should — we can change the outcome of the cards. Nothing is for certain.” Lars glanced at Thomas. “People are a variable, that even the future can't read.” Thomas felt like that last part was in reference to him. What did he do? 

“Okay, what's the next card?” Bernard said looking to the deck. 

“Foundation, the reason for the reading.” Lars placed the card to the left of the first two. It showed the man dressed in a black robe, his back toward them — his shoulder shaking with tears. “Five of Cups. Loss and sadness.” Lars went quiet, they all did. They didn't need to talk about this one. The three all knew what it represented. Pipa. 

“The past.” Lars picked up the next card and placed it above the overlapping pair. It was a heart, that was moving in a slow beat with three swords stabbed through it. “Betrayal, the pain of heartbreak.” Lars frowned and shook his head. “I'm not sure if this helps us.” 

“We could go around and ask people.” Thomas said, how many could be heart broken in a school? 

“Oh, pardon me but have you suffered a heartbreaking moment? That causes you to go mad and steal the souls of others?” Bernard looked at Thomas like he was mad. 

“Okay, that sounds worse when said like that.” Thomas said folding his arms on the table to rest his head. This was hard, card reading — how did Lars do it all on his own? 

“Let's move on.” Lars said pulling another card, and placing it to the right of the first. “The near future.” The blond man walk off the card with a bouquet of words in his possession. “The thief.” 

“Someone elses soul is in danger?” Bernard said, leaning forward and brushing his fingers along the bottom edge of the deck. Not touching the card, but close. 

“Seems like it.” Lars nodded, “things are going to get worse before they get better.” 

“Great.” Thomas said, sitting upright again. How many more souls would suffer? His elbows leaning on the table, he turned to Lars. “Can we stop it?” 

“The next card is us.” Lars reach over and quickly turned the card over to the bottom, where the top corner touched the bottom of the last card. “ The fool. “ Lars grimaced at the man prancing in the sun on the card. 

“Is that bad?” Bernard asked. Lars shook his head. 

“I dislike this card.” Lars didn't go into details. “It means a leap of faith. Of taking risks and new beginnings.” 

“Your not one for risks.” Thomas said, Lars may like to appear laid back and uncaring, but he like things to happen it a predictable way. 

“Lars doesn't seem like the type to let a little risk bother him,” Bernard shook his head and disagreed. Thomas shrugged his shoulder's, disagreeing with him, but not wanting to fight about it. Lars liked having a plan, even if he wasn't one to share it. Why else would fret about which house Thomas was in? Or being seen with his deck.

He could see it being a bother his abilities were out in the open — Seers were rare, it would draw too much attention. None of these things on their own were bad, but there was a risk they would be. The attention could spin things out of control, and that was the greatest risk of all. Loosing control. Thomas looked at Lars, who turned his eyes downwards. 

“You can be perspective at times.” Lars said in the thinnest of whispers, and a small smile on his lips. 

“What?” Bernard asked leaning forward to hear Lars better. 

“Influences effecting us is the next card.” Lars placed it above the last card. Forming a line. Thomas smiled and shook his head, he didn't mind not sharing that part of Lars with Bernard. He'll find out on his own — one day. “Ten of Pentacles.” It was upright to Thomas, which meant the card was in reverse. Ten shining stars sparkled as an older man, who looked like Lars's father watch over the blonde man from afar. 

“Family inheritance, can be blocking our paths.” Lars eyes lifted with a glowing edge to them. Bernard noticed as well, because he heard him suck in his air like it hurt him. 

“You must find your animal Thomas.” Lars voice became almost feminine, but it was rough and hard. Nothing like Lars's mother — who was gentle and free-spirited. “You have everything you need. Why don;t you take it?” The heart around Thomas neck heated up. Thomas pulled it out from his robe. To see the Celtic knot in the middle glow purple. 

“You have your fathers blood, and your mum's magic, but you are also mine — a warrior. Fight.” Lars hand lashed out and his eyes turned dark, but they still glowed. 

“Mother?” Thomas whispered. A feeling of familiarity that ran though him, triggered no memory, but felt so right. The eyes, were not Lars's, but dark and endless like the ocean. 

“No animal will choose a weak master.” Lars dropped him, no, his mother did? Thomas caught himself on the table, but was no less confused. “Nor will a woman choose a weak man.” Bernard pushed himself up onto the arm of the couch. At some point his wand managed to get in his hand. Lars's hand lashed out and snatched the next card. Slamming it down in the above the right line. 

“Face your fears — all three you!” Lars dropped to the floor like a puppet without his strings. Thomas ran over to him. The heat of his necklace, still burning him through his robe. He ignored it. 

“Lars! Are you okay?” Thomas dropped to his knees. Helping the struggling Lars back to the couch where Bernard waited, his wand still in hand. 

“What was that?” Bernard asked his hand shaking, but knuckles white on his wand. “I don't know.” Thomas didn't, could it have been his mother — the siren? Was she somehow connecting him through Lars? 

“Seven of Pentacles — reversed.” Lars voice was rough and strained, but his own. His eyes glowed bright, but the colour was his ever-changing hazel blue. “Fear of success, time is running out.” Lars reached out Bernard tried to stop him but Thomas slapped his hand away. 

“Ow!” Barnard said rubbing his hand. “He's not himself, we should stop him.” 

“He needs to finish it — or it could hurt him.” Thomas said, Lars's mother, Berry the house-elf, and even Lars father, had not tried to stop the visions. They had waited and were there to take care of him when they stopped. Thomas was sure that was important. 

“The Outcome. Ten of Swords.” Lars placed the final card above the others, finishing the line. “Bonds may break, there is no turning back, where this ends — another will begin.” Lars turned to Thomas, his heart raced at the glowing black ocean eyes pinning him down. 

“Remember you are also your mother's son.” The sound of water rushed over Thomas. In a flash he saw a world far different from his own. One of life, and death, water and blood. The life of a warrior of the oceans. Then it broke apart, making him dropped to the floor, along with Lars. 

“Is there water here?” Thomas asked, panting. He fell to his side, but he used his hand to give the egg in his pocket a quick check — it was fine, but how about Lars? 

“I saw a small barrel in the cabinets” Bernard leapt over the couch, and Thomas went to Lars. Pushing the table out of the way. He moved him to lean his back on the couch he fell from. His eyes flickered, and his face — covered in a sheen of sweat. When he finally opened his eyes, Thomas felt relieved. 

“Lars, can you drink?” Thomas asked while Bernard came flying around in a swirl of black robes. A wooden goblet in his hands. 

“It's meant for plants, but it's safe to drink.” Bernard put the goblet to Lars's lips, Thomas helped to keep him upright. With the water finished, Lars eyes sparked back to life. 

“What did I miss?” Lars asked, quirking his brow. 

“Besides scarring me into my next life?” Bernard said joining them on the floor. 

“It may have... it was my mother. She talked through you.” Thomas said dropping his hand to make sure Lars didn't need his support anymore to keep him upright. 

“Which one?” Lars said sharply. 

“The siren.” Thomas said blinking at the harsh tone, but too shocked at the turn of events to say anything. 

“Wait — I thought you were a vampire?” Bernard said rubbing his eyes — he looked tired and confused. Thomas sighed, he bet that they all looked the same — haggard and muddled. 

“My father is, but I have two mothers.” Thomas explained, Bernard looked baffled. Rubbing his face with a groan. 

“Fine, okay, I can go with this.” Bernard said given up on understanding what is all going on. Taking his wand off the floor, Thomas hadn't even noticed it falling there. 

“A seer can only channel the dead Thomas.” Lars said, placing a quivering hand on Thomas's knee. “I'm sorry.” 

“What?” Thomas said, falling back on his arse. 

“I have to say this as blunt as I can. Or it'll only hurt you more.” Lars said shaking his head, and grinding his teeth. Whatever it was Lars didn't want to say it. “I know my parents said that your father, and witch mother were alive.” 

“They are?” Bernard asked, sounded more surprised by the second. “I thought you were an orphan?”

“They only hid me there.” Thomas said, unsure what he was feeling. “But this locket.” Thomas fingered the heart that still hung outside his robes. “Shows their magic, and they are still alive — somewhere.” 

“That might be worse.” Bernard said inching over closer to Thomas. “I'm sorry, Thomas.” 

“It's okay Bernard – I didn't really know them.” Thomas said, he didn't feel anything. He couldn't — could he? Thomas didn't even know them — what was to be sad about? 

“The magic in the locket only is there, your other mother, your siren mother, must not have been a part of that.” Lars grimaced. “I've never experienced this before. I'm sorry Thomas — I am so sorry. I never thought this could happen.” 

“She was trying to protect Thomas?” Bernard looked to Lars, and back to Thomas. “That has to mean something — at least you knew she cares — even in death.” Thomas nodded there was that. He felt a connection at that moment. Strange as it was. 

“I agree, she was trying help, at least that is what I felt.” Lars said pulling his hand through his hair. “She seemed...” Lars didn't finish. 

“Scary?” Bernard offered with a wave of his hand. 

“Hey!” Thomas said defending the mother he never knew on instinct. 

“Sorry,” Bernard said with a wince. Raising a hand to ward off any other words Thomas might throw. “She was very harsh. It could be her fighting instinct are being a warrior? It could be a siren, you said that was what she was?” Bernard checked and Thomas nodded. “It could be part of how they are?” Bernard offered instead. Thomas didn't know anything about her, or sirens in generally, so for all Thomas knew. That could be it. 

“She felt worried.” Lars said, interrupting the two. “I felt her urgency Thomas. She believed, and so do I. That you need your animal to call, when face what has hurt Pipa.” Lars grabbed his hands. Holding them hard. “You have to.” 

“How?” Thomas asked, not doubted Lars for a minute... or small part of Thomas acknowledged. That he didn't doubt his mother either. 

“We'll use this space.” Bernard was the one to come up with an answer. “If it's not flying or defence against the dark arts class — I excel. Lars is good with all the subjects.” Bernard stood up and looked around. “We'll make you the new youngest to make the Patronus charm, and help you find that animal to call.” 

“I'm only average at charms.” Thomas had a hard time keeping up in class — the shift to what he knew. On site classes at a bar, and reading poetry was a far cry from sitting down in class and learning. He knew without his friends, he would be failing most of his classes. 

“We'll be right here, learning and doing it with you.” Lars said, getting up to sit on the couch. A slight wavering in his stance. “We'll give the thirteen-year-old Harry Potter a proper beating.” Lars winked. 

“We can do this Thomas, not only for Pipa, but for you.” Bernard said holding his hand out. “We can't let you be taking away.” Thomas took it, and Lars added his hand into the mix. 

“For Pipa.” Thomas said, his hand shaking along with Bernard's. It surprised Thomas that Lars's hand shook too, but it was understandable. He had just been possessed by his dead mother after all. They had all learned a lot of now, but it had no meaning, and they had no time to understand it. 

“For Pipa, and for you Thomas.” Lars correct Thomas. The three of them were not fearless. Their shaking hands spoke volumes, but they were willing to face their fears. To be warriors for the common cause, that was not only Pipa but all four of them.


	21. Holidays

November, was a month of changes. That went by faster than the leaves could fall. Gone was the tumble of autumn colours rustling along the ground. Left in their wake were strong north winds. That howled through the emptying school yard. Few students wanted to spend their time, and hanging outside at lunch. Doing nothing but shivering, with winter nipping at their heels. 

Thomas, and his friends also kept their free time inside. They went to visit Pipa regularly, but the group was much quieter. Without her contagious cheer. Both her and Squeakers were doing well according to the Head Nurse. Everything was steady, and her body was fine. 

Pipa looked like she was simply sleeping. It didn't offer them much comfort, but at least she wasn't in any pain, and Thomas did take comfort in that. Professor Nocturne had somewhere to go at night. Putting Thomas's night classes on hold. Not that Thomas had much hope for them. No matter what the Professor called himself — he was still the same. 

Knowing all the answers, and not giving an inch on supplying the answers. It frustrated his potions students to no end, but Thomas was used to it. Learning from his past, Thomas spent his nights reading up and tinkering with potions. Among other things, after all the nights were long. Their weekends spent in the Room of Requirement. 

Thomas was having a hard time holding on to a strong enough memory to make a Patronus. His only relief came in the form of Bernard, who was struggling with it as much as he was. Lars hadn't tried his hand at it yet. Mysteriously clamming up, claiming he a had an idea what it would be, and he wanted to help us out before he tried. His confidence was blinding, but it didn't help either him or Bernard out any. 

December came rushing at them. The first brought a blanket of snow. Looking out the window, Thomas saw the grounds, and the school in a dusting of white. It was beautiful cold. Roaring fires were lit all around the school. It did little to battle the frigid temperatures. That seeped into the school large stone walls. Thomas had left the dorm, to spend the night curled up in front of the common room's fireplace. 

There he worked away on the finishing touches to Lars's birthday gift. Thomas, not once in his eleven years — had celebrated his birthday. December first was like any other day. It didn't enter his mind that this year would be any different, but when he heard it was also Lars's birthday. Well, Thomas had to do something for him. 

He had spent the better part of a week making a deck box for Lars's tarot cards. Thomas had a good supply of wood, sent by Berry — the O'Sullivan's house-elf. She never sent any letters, but Thomas would randomly get small packages full of hunks of wood. All different colours. 

Thomas knew it was her, only because Lars had received a letter from his mother. Telling him how cute it was that Berry was going out for walks to gather wood for Thomas. Thomas had plans to make her soothing nice for Christmas as thanks, but he had to finish of Lars's present first. 

With no spells, or enchantments. Thomas managed a simple raven design on the box he was craving. Smoothing it out until it was so smooth it shined. It could have been easier to make with magic, but working with his hands. Brought Thomas a slice of peace. 

When he worked the wood, transforming it from one thing to another. That was all he could think of, nothing else in the world existed. It was only Thomas and the wood. With dawn creeping its way up. Thomas finished off the box, placing it on the table beside him. Thomas stood with a stretch. 

Bernard came down the stairs rather early for him. Thomas managed to get Lars's present tuck into his ring. Yet before, Bernard dragged him out of the dorm with not so much a good morning. Thomas ran down the hall with Bernard. Down stairs, and halls until the pictures on the walls become blur. Breathing ragged, his school robes trailed behind him like wings. Only when they reached the great hall did Bernard slowed. Letting Thomas catch his breath. 

“Happy Birthday Thomas!” Lars said his hands out wide from behind their regular table. The table itself was stack with small cakes and treats. A scattering of presents made the middle, pop in colourful array. That moved and twirled on their bags and wrapped papered boxes. That made a better centre piece then the pumpkins and candles, did at Halloween. 

“Happy Birthday Lars.” Thomas said back with a big smile. 

“You didn't have to decorate for your own birthday.” Thomas sat down at the table, flaring his robes around him. 

“It's your birthday too.” Bernard sat down beside him. 

“Told you he would be like this.” Lars said, smiling he sat down too. “Here. This will get you into the spirit of things.” Bernard said, pushing black box at him with star shooting across it. In a sparkling white trail around the corners. 

“This is... for me?” Thomas asked, looking at Bernard with restraint, but hopeful glee. 

“I have something for you too, my parents, and Berry too. ” Lars started piling presents in front of Thomas with each name he mentioned. Thomas fingers dance across the table, right in front of the presents. He wanted to unwrap the presents right away. 

“Ah!” Thomas put his hand over his ring to summon the box he finished up this morning. “It's not wrapped, but...” Thomas gave Lars the box for his cards. 

“It's amazing Thomas.” Lars ran his fingers over the edges of the box. Running his nails along each detailed line, Thomas had craved for the Ravens wing. “I like the raven.” Lars said soft gentle voice, that ended with a smile. 

“I thought you might.” Thomas said, “His family home had them everywhere.” Thomas said for Bernard's benefit. “It's for your tarot cards.” Thomas said to Lars, his eyes darting to his own gift. Gifts! Thomas never once got one. Well, Thomas did get a knife from Professor Nocturne — then the Old Man. 

“Our home.” Lars corrected. Taking out his tarot cards to place in the box. 

“Well — go ahead. Open them.” Bernard laughed, and Thomas latched onto his present first. Tearing it open to reveal several crystal of gold and clear colours, in a black wood stand. From Lars father, Uncle Liam, he received a thick volume of sixteenth century poetry. Lars got a book on stars from his father, and a journal to write in from Bernard. Aunt Merry gave him a robe in sapphire, and gave Lars one to match his. 

Berry sent him some leafs, and vines. Off hand, he recognized some as potion ingredients, but he would have to sort them later. Lars got a stick that he couldn't explain. From Lars, Thomas got enchanted sharping stone for his wood working tools. They laughed, ate cake for breakfast. When people arrived for breakfast, they stared and whispered. For once, Thomas didn't care. 

Ethan and Victoria even joined them for breakfast. Wishing both Lars and Thomas a happy birthday. Fun and games didn't last long, and classes had to start, but this little party was what they needed. A pick me up from all that happen, and even History of Magic class couldn't bring him down. Two more weekends passed like that. Without much change. In either classes or their self-imposed Patronus lessons. 

During that time another person fell victim to the soul sealer. John Lewis, a second year Hufflepuff. Headmaster Longbottom, did a great job to keep that quieter than the first two. Thomas, and his friends only found out due to them visiting the hospital wing so much. 

Christmas's holidays were coming, and everyone was getting ready to leave, even Thomas. Pipa was at the back of Thomas's mind. She was staying at Hogwarts, to be under the care of Nurse, and protected by the school. Not that it did much to stop what had happened, from happening. Bernard seemed unwilling to go back home, as well. 

“Why not come home with us?” Thomas asked, he sat on his dorm bed. Watching Bernard pack for home. His face as unreadable as when they first met. “I'm sure Aunt Merry wouldn't mind, and Uncle Liam is really nice too.” Thomas said all this, with a solid feeling if Lars could be there — he would back him. Or figure out a way to actually make Bernard come with them. 

“I have to go Thomas.” Bernard said folded his last robe into his trunk for home. “There is a library at home, an old library, there may be an answered there. For both for you and Pipa.” Bernard turned towards Thomas. His honey brown eyes shining with a furious glow. “If that means facing my family.” Bernard swallowed, “I'll do it.” Bernard's voice sounded shaky, and firm at the same time. 

“Do you think they'll be mad about the whole Gryffindor house?” Thomas asked, passing along his Christmas gift for Bernard. Thinking he would hide it among his belongings. He made him a vial of Calming Draught. The closer they got to Christmas, the more Bernard closed himself off. The potion was tricky, a few years above his current grade, but he managed it after a few tries. Thankfully, Lars parents were giving when it came to potion ingredients. 

“Thanks.” Bernard said with a half smile. Placing, this time wrapped gift, thanks to Lars; into his trunk. Setting the trunk close with two heavy clicks. 

“Yes, I can already feel my skin peeling at his burning stare.” Bernard wipe his hand over his lower face, a very adult gesture. To Thomas's point of view. 

“Do you have an attic?” Thomas thought back to his little space in the attic. It was dusty, bug ridden, and smelled bad, but all those things made it perfect. After all, who wanted to go up there? To torment or pester after a person, when they too would have to suffer the same space. 

“I don't know.” Bernard pulled his trunk off the bed and held onto it by the handle. “Why?” 

“It might be a good place to get away from it all.” Thomas said speaking from his experiences. You could face a lot of hardships, if you have one. A place to get away from it all. Thomas had hopes that everyone could have a Room of Requirement one day, or even better. Not need one at all. Until then... 

“Do you have one?” Thomas's brows crunched together with worry about, and for Bernard. 

“I have one.” Bernard patting Thomas in the shoulder. “Here, with you.” Bernard pushed past him and headed down stairs to the dorm common room. 

“Is that enough?” Thomas whispered to his back. Following after him, wishing things could be different. Lars waiting for them outside the painting. They walked to the train station together. Talking about their goals, to return with results or at the very least some clues. 

They sent each other off with hugs, and headed home for the holidays.


	22. The Family You Choose

The train ride home, because that was what Thomas had now — a home. Left Thomas with mixed feelings. Leaving Bernard in the shadow of his parents, who wouldn't so much as look at him. Left Lars very quiet as well, when they which the O'Sullivan Manor. Thomas couldn't help to get caught up in the spirit of things. Christmas holidays with the O'Sullivan's as the best thing Thomas ever experienced. Ever. 

The dinner — for five. Was the craziest thing Thomas ever seen. Unlike the small meal Thomas was only allowed scraps from. There was fat roasted turkey, a ham bigger than Thomas could carry on his own. Mountains of mashed potatoes, platters of cheese, bowls overflowing with buttered peas. Silver boats — that actual floated! Spun around the table carrying a thick, rich gravy and red bubbling sauce. 

Snacks were in every nook and cranny of the house. Thomas had his fill before morning ever came. One of the dessert, was this special cake — made with a rich fruit and nut combination laced with whisky. Aunt Merry — Thomas was still shy about calling her that, made it back in October. Despite its contains, both Lars and Thomas got a small slice. 

Thomas received a scare of his life when he opened the crackers given to him by Berry. What the house elf had given out was nothing like the feeble Muggle ones he had seen the Rows hand out. To everyone but him of course. Thomas pulled a wizard cracker with Lars and it didn’t only snap open and smell like a match, it went off with a blast! 

Knocking Thomas clean out of his chair! It engulfed them all in a cloud of red smoke. From the inside the smoke exploded a tumble of glowing butterflies. That escaped into the dark corners of the house. The heaps of gifts for everyone — was also outstanding. Thomas had to reorganize his ring to make all the potion supplies fit inside. He felt kinda bad for his self-made gifts, but no one, not even Berry would have any of that. 

Before leaving back to school, they celebrated 'Nollaig na mBean' or Women's Christmas. Traditionally the women got the day off and the men do the housework and cooking! Thomas found out that cooking and potions was not an interchangeable skill. He followed the recipe, but still... it tasted off. Uncle Liam and Lars managed to save the dinner, by bringing out the left overs. It was a lot of fun. 

Thomas face still stung from all his smiling when they got on the train to return to Hogwarts. It was a shame Bernard couldn't say the same. He came back looking more tired, and solemn than when Thomas had first met him. His first words to them, was an apology that his library books came up empty. 

It didn't bother them, but Bernard seemed upset. His lips were tight, and his body was stiffer than a statue. Not even Lars could draw a smile out of their friend. He did, however get him to relax, and the closer they got to school. The more Bernard came out of that hard shell of his. 

Professors were coming down hard about exams. They first heard about it in Herbology, where Bernard finally reverted to his usual self. Unlike the others Thomas stayed relaxed. He didn't worry about each Professor warning, class after class. 

His friends looked fine with them — why should he worry? That was because, his friends were smart. Not regular smart, but wicked smart. Without Pipa to balance them out, Thomas didn't know what he was in for. Homework came in like the exams were around the corner, and not at the end of the year. Pop tests, and surprise questions were coming out of the woods — like pixes freed from their cages.

Exams, Tomas discovered — sucked. He thought they shouldn't be that bad, he paid attention in class, he took notes. He knew what he was doing, at least enough to get by. What was the problem then? It was that everything he knew — was wrong. Outside of potions, Thomas was struggling to keep his head above passing. 

Professor Frost knew, that Thomas knew, that she knew. That Bernard was the only reason his mandrake was still alive. Had that little guy not struggled to get out of his hands during transplanting. Thomas figured he would have had a better chance at pulling one over on her. Lars thought otherwise, but Thomas was sure, with Bernard's help. He could manage — somehow. 

Professor Frost hadn't called Thomas out on it. She didn't keep an extra eye on him, Thomas was sure of that. Bernard was both fascinated and horrified at most plants reaction to Thomas. Vowing that he had never harmed a plant, or even cared for one before. Kept Bernard from believing him to be a plant murderer. Thomas didn't even like most vegetables. Vegetables not liking him either — seemed rather fair. 

Professor Barlow's flying class wasn't bad. At night Professor Barlow would take Thomas out for a midnight flight. It was a secret from the others, that made Thomas feel kinda nice. Professor Barlow and him would talk about all sorts of things. 

His knowledge on vampires was amazing. With Professor Barlow's help, he would be riding a broom like Lars and Bernard in not time - despite his mixed hertiage. Both grew up riding a broom, and the night lessons helped him catch up. Thomas's did discover his love to have his feet on the ground, Professor Barlow said that was fine too. 

He wasn't as bad as Psto — whose broom still bucked him around. Every class left him either pale or with broken glasses. He wouldn't omit it out loud, but the sight made him feel a little better. Thinking left him feeling a little worse. Thomas was hoping the two feelings would balance themselves out. Classes like History of Magic was boring, and without Pipa to struggling beside him. Thomas wasn't fairing all that well. 

Bernard tried linking famous wizards with poetry. Few famous wizards wrote their own stories. Let alone their own poems. Lars was helping him, by making flash cards. It was a small deck of cards. That shuffled on its own. It mimicked the exam questions, and if you got it right — it cheered. 

What Lars didn't know was that the deck could get dejected. Thomas got so many answers wrong for History of Magic. The deck lost its will to continue, dropping to the table. Unwilling to work with him further. 

Essentially, their spring break was a mountain climb. Roughing it up the mountains that was homework. Exams that Thomas seemed doom to fail; and with Thomas's inability to produce a Patronus charm. He might as well sign up to vampire school, or whatever would happen if he went with Professor Nocturne. Thomas wasn't getting anywhere with anything.

At least with everyone as busy as them with all the extra homework. There was no one to stir up trouble with Thomas. Lars — after another gruelling test about which old wizard signed what scroll. That made it that ghost haunting Muggle homes would receive punishment. 

A test, Thomas couldn't remember the questions, let alone the answers. Brought Thomas, and Bernard to their new favourite spot the Room of Requirement. Who kindly turned the couch and coffee table into a large round couch for the three to share. Draped over it — exhausted. Thomas looked at his friends. Wondering what they're going to do about — well any of it.

“Why do they have to test us about everything all at once?” Thomas asked tugging on the tight braid in had laying over his shoulder-length hair. 

“It's to show them that we remember it all.” Lars said dry as can be. His ankles crossed over each other, and his hands folded comfortable across his chest. He laid on his back on the couch. 

“You not doing too bad — for someone with no formal schooling.” Bernard offered, from his potion on the couch — he was the only one sitting on it. 

“Don't worry, we won't let you fail.” Lars said closing his eyes. He may be smart, but exams were tiring even to the smart, and not to mention their other problems. 

“What about Pipa?” Thomas said, even though spoken in a whisper. It added an extra layer to the air. Making the room feel stuffy. 

“I'm sure she'll get offered a pass.” Bernard said, his words spoken in a sad sigh. 

“What about next year?” Thomas couldn't imagine catching up on a whole year, or near a whole year of work. 

“Maybe there won't even be a next year.” Bernard said turning his head away from them. Something about Bernard looked to be wilting, dying off right in front of his eyes. His voice a dark whisper. One that never should have been inside of Bernard. He was to stand up a guy for that. 

“Don't say that.” Thomas sat up on the couch. He didn't want Bernard to talk like that, to think like that. 

“Why not? It's the bloody truth and you know it!” Bernard stood up and turned to Thomas. His eyes red. They were the eyes of someone on edge. Either Bernard was going to break, or something else was going too, by Bernard's hands. 

“Bernard -” Lars opened his eyes, and moved himself upright. 

“No, don't Bernard me. You're not my father.” Bernard laughed hard and dry. It sounded painful to Thomas's ears. “He couldn't be more disappointed in me than you.” 

“We have to have hope.” Thomas said his words weak, he had a hard time believing in hope himself. He had all but lost it in the weight of exams, and the pressure of finding his animal. Not to mention the loss of Pipa. Nothing looked promising, but he still had a flicker of light. Keeping him from the dark. 

“Hope what? That you won't leave us to join some vampire coven?” Bernard spat out his words. 

“Your no closer to finding your animal. Then I am being the perfect Malfoy — like my dear younger sister.” Bernard turned to Lars before Thomas could even react. “You, without Thomas I doubt we'll remain friends.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Thomas demanded to know, standing up from the couch, and standing up for Lars. 

“I know his only friends with us, Pipa and me, because of you.” Bernard said, he started to pace the length of the fireplace. His eyes like an angry spell shooting sparks at both Thomas and Lars. Thomas could feel a pain stirring in his chest. The one that told him, words bordering on a lie were being spoken. “Without you — he would have nothing to do with us!” 

“That's not all true.” Thomas said rubbing his chest. “You don't believe that.” 

“Your detector is broke, your abilities are broke! That is why we can't find a silver of your animal! After all your only a third of a vampire!” Bernard hissed, “That is why were in this mess!” Thomas winced, but Bernard didn't stop there. 

“I wouldn't be living in a fantasy. That I could love Herbology, that I could be happy in Gryffindor, that Pipa-” Bernard cut himself off. His hands balling into fist, Thomas back up until the back of his knees hit the couch. Was Bernard couldn't hit him? 

“He is right Thomas, partly.” Lars spoke up moving between him and Bernard. “Without you, I would have blending into a different group.” Lars was popular, Thomas remembered seeing some upper classmates talking to him once. 

“I made that choice — after seeing you, Thomas.” Lars smiled, it was a gentle smile. That was both happy, and sad all at the same time. It made Thomas chest pin with pain, not because he lied, because it hurt — that smile. With what sight had Lars seen him with? “Also, because of you Bernard.” Lars said looking at the angry Bernard. 

“What?” Bernard said his face dropping in shock. 

“A life without Thomas. I can not go through that — not again.” Lars held up his hand, stopping Thomas from even thinking of his question that made his mouth open up. He continued to speak to Bernard, with firm conviction. “Seeing you, and now knowing you. Bernard, is something I don't want to miss out on.” 

“Your family will not break you Bernard.” Lars's back was facing Thomas, but Bernard eyes started to tear up. His shoulders shook, Bernard was carrying a lot of weight on them. Thomas wish he could help him with it, he couldn't right now, but he could take some it away. 

“Did you see that.” Bernard said, with empathize put on see. Thomas figured out what he was asking, had Lars had a vision. 

“With me, Thomas, and Pipa, because it's always Pipa for you.” Lars reached a hand out and took Bernard by the shoulder. “Like it's always Thomas for me.” Answering the question, without answering the question. A very Lars like thing to do. “We won't let it be any other way.” 

“I understand.” Bernard looked at Thomas, who wasn't understanding much of this part of the conversation, and back at Lars. “But how?” Bernard's voice shook, but he grabbed onto Lars's arm like a life line. Thomas knew Bernard wasn't himself. Thomas frowned, and thought hard on how to help Bernard, on how to help any of them. 

“If we can't find my animal, could we can find Pipa's soul instead.” Thomas walked up to stand beside Lars. They had been focusing on Thomas's animal for the past couple months. It was time to try something else. Putting his hands inside his robe. To rub the little brown egg he had retrieved from this very room. He had developed the habit into fiddling with when worried. A much better option than the old pocket knife of his. 

“Because we've done a stellar job at that.” Bernard gave a barking laugh, and rubbed his face with his sleeve. Stopping his emotions from overflowing onto his face. 

“We haven't tried to hard on that front.” Thomas pointed out. 

“Seven of Pentacles — reversed.” Lars looked up. His eyes didn't glow, but the colour of his ever-changing hazel blues was spinning. “Fear of success, time is running out.” Lars reached out taking Bernard and Thomas by the shoulder. “I think we've reached that point.” 

“I fear us succeeding?” Bernard said shaking his head, with a hard crack. 

“Time is running out.” Lars corrected. 

“What can we do?” Thomas said with time running out, did they have time to do anything? 

“Let's focus on this. What do we know?” Lars said dropping his hands to fold them over his chest. Thomas paused, what did they know? Lars's vision offered a lot of information, but none of it had any contents. His one mother possessing Lars, only added to the confusion. 

“Someone is taking souls, we don't know why.” Bernard said turning away to look at the fire. The light flickering his hair into different shades of red. “Not knowing what to do. It's a recurring theme in my life.” His shoulders slumped. 

“We know someone managed to control the spirit or soul of a troll.” Lars said, “That has to be of some importance.” 

“They didn't even do anything with it.” Bernard said, lashing out his fist to hit the brick of the fireplace. Making Thomas wince, better it them him, but that had to have hurt. “Its useless information!” 

“Is it? The girl's bathroom could be important somehow?” Lars said, taking out his want to fix up the cuts on Bernard's hand — who Thomas was happy to see, let him. “That was where it happened.” 

“The chamber of secrets is in the bathroom.” Thomas blurted out, getting both their eyes on him.

“What?” Lars asked, tucking his wand back away. 

“The chamber of secrets. I went there, or at least to the bathroom, after you guys fell asleep — remember?” Thomas pulled his hands out of his pockets to wave them around as he tried to centre his thoughts. 

“So?” Bernard said his eyes narrowing at him. 

“So,” Thomas dragged out. “The ghost in the girl's bathroom told me something.” 

“I do remember you saying something about a snake?” Lars said, but his face filled with the same confusion as Bernard's. 

“She told me, some strange men tried to get into the chamber. Not boys, not students, but men.” Thomas stressed it out. “That chamber had ties to Harry Potter, right?” Thomas took them back to their first, and only theory. 

“The troll was the first monster he faced.” Bernard said, joining Thomas in his budding idea. 

“The chamber not only controlled his second year. It reappeared in his later battles in Hogwarts.” Lars said his eyes lighting up. 

“Why would they want the chamber?” Bernard said, shaking his head. “That doesn't make any sense.” 

“It could be, if it's not the chamber they want.” Lars said his voice went stone-cold. Making Thomas feel cold all over again. 

“Do they want what he fought in there? Like the troll?” Thomas said, the idea of a giant snake seemed like a nice idea, but not if it was a bad snake, of a ghost of a one. 

“It wasn't a snake he fought in there — it was Lord Voldemort — or a part of him.” Bernard said his breath coming in sharp inhales. 

“Lord Voldemort?” Thomas asked, caught up in school, and their own magic lessons. Thomas hadn't gotten the chance to check out much about Harry Potter. 

“You don't know?” Bernard said, taking a deep breath. He offered Thomas a shaking smile. The first sign that Bernard was starting to collect himself. “I forget you grew up with Muggles.” 

“He was the reason behind the great war, he was the darkest of wizards — that even the pitch-black beings feared.” Lars explained, “Harry Potter almost died every year, because of him.” Thomas shivered. Lord Voldemort sounded like a regular boogeyman, or worse like a giant frog. The hairs on the back of Thomas neck stood on, at the mere idea. 

“First they took a Potter.” Bernard muttered. “Then they took Pipa — a muggle born witch.” Lars added on. 

“They took another student to, but there all still alive.” Thomas whispered, not wanting to speak to loud, in case they, whoever they were, could hear him. Silly, but the surrounding air did felt chilly. Thomas looked around, and inch closer to the fire. 

“Are they trying to bring him back?” Bernard asked, looking wide-eyed. 

“Why would they want to?” Thomas asked shaking, he started to rub his arms to find of the cold. 

“Some Dark witches and wizards, may want him back.” Bernard said with a grimace. That made Thomas and Lars look at each and nod, a silent pact to ignore that look. It was that same dead eye look he got, whenever he mentioned his family. 

“His soul, or what remained of it was broken. They couldn't bring him back.” Lars said adamantly. 

“Could they bring back a trace of him, his power?” Thomas asked, clueless about these sorts of things. 

“There would be better places to do it.” Bernard said, “It can't be about him.” 

“First year, was about the third floor — student were not allowed near it.” Lars said, ticking off his fingers. “Students can go up there now.” Thomas knew that. They used it for different clubs that the students had, once they reached their second year that is. Professor Barlow had told him about that. 

“Second year, it was the chamber.” Bernard muttered into his raised hand. “Third year, wasn't mentioned, but I don't think Voldemort himself had much to do with that. The wizard cup, sent Potter somewhere else, and most of the other events were off school grounds, or in an open space.” 

“If you wanted privacy to try to reconnect a soul — the chamber would be it.” Lars said, “There is no snake there now, so it would be safe.” 

“Are we going then? To the chamber?” Bernard asked. Lars shook his head. 

“First we prepare.” Lars said, turning to Thomas. “Can you make some potions that might help us out?” 

“I'll look into a few things.” Thomas said nodded his head, potions were his specialty. An acid green potion came to mind. If there was a bad guy, blowing him up couldn't be a bad option. 

“Bernard, is there anything we should know about the chamber?” Lars turned to Bernard who frowned. 

“Not much is writing in great detail, but I'll see what I can find in the library.” Bernard, eyes were returning to the normal shade of honey brown, and he looked far calmer than a few minutes ago. 

“First we have to talk to the ghost in the bathroom.” Lars started walking to the exit. 

“We're just going to walk into the girl's lavatory?” Bernard said, “In the middle students heading back to their dorms for the night?” Lars stopped in his tracks, and turned back around. 

“We should get lost in the bustle.” Lars said, not looking at all worried. 

“I've already been in there once, why not again?” Thomas shrugged, “The faster we help Pipa, the better.” 

“This is crazy.” Bernard said, but started to make his way to the door anyway. 

“That's the spirit.” Lars said turning himself back around. Thomas walked to the exit himself, when Bernard stopped him with a hand to his arm. 

“Thomas, I,” Bernard started, his face in a grimace. “What I said...” 

“It's okay Bernard,” Thomas said, stopping the awkward words that weren't coming out. 

“It's not — you know.” Bernard sighed, “Christmas was difficult for me.” 

“Friends, are the family we choose, Bernard.” Lars said as they reached him. “Fights are normal, but we move on, together.” 

“Together.” Bernard said straightening his robes and opening the door for them to leave. Not another word was spoken about Bernard's angry outburst. They all understood, his family... were not good people. Thomas understood a thing or two about being stuck with bad people. 

Lars had saved him, and maybe together with Thomas. They could one day save Bernard, they were all in it together. Like Lars had said, they were the family they choose to have. They'll tackle their problems together. Did that mean that their small group of three boys, had to enter the girl's lavatory? To save another member of their family. Yes, yes it did.


	23. The Chamber

“What is going on?” Bernard asked what Thomas was thinking. Students and teachers alike were in scrambles. Racing off like dragons were nipping at their heels.

“There is one way to find out.” Lars reached out and caught one of the older students by the arm. By his robe colours, he looked like he was from Lars's house- Slytherin. “What is going on Jones?”

“Lars!” He turned and his face turned from one of anger to recognition. “Haven't you heard?”

“We have been in a dark corner — studying.” Lars shook his head. Thomas inched a little closer, curious what Jones was going to say.

“A whole classroom of students passed out.” Jones snapped his tanned fingers. “Gone, like the girls in the infirmary.”

“Like Pipa?” Thomas felt his knees shake. Were their souls missing, like hers? Or had this man, who they couldn't even guess who, had taken them?

“Yeah, like her.” Jones nodded his shaved head. “Professors are scurrying to the Deviations Classroom. Everyone else is supposed to go back to their dorms.”

“It happened in Deviations?” Bernard asked, his eyes wide at the shocking news.

“That's what I heard, if I were you two, I would book it to Gryffindor room asap.” Jones looked to Lars. “You coming, or you're seeing your little friend is back to his dorm first?” Jones pointed right at Thomas when he said little. It struck a bit of a nerve. He may be short, but he wasn't like he had to be referred to as some lost little kid!

“Quaffle in one.” Lars said with a wink, “I'll see you soon Jones.” Lars waved him off.

“Sure, see ya later little vampire.” Jones smiled, making it hard for Thomas to say anything, so he didn't. He only lifted his hand and waved him off.

“A whole class this time.” Bernard shook his head, “We can't wait any longer.”

“No, we go to the Chamber, now.” Lars said, pushing to the side, as they ran the opposite way the student were going. Going along the wall, serious while the others were panicking. They had no time to prepare — this was happening now!

“It's already opened!” Thomas grabbed the front of his robes. His heart almost stopping in disbelieve. Were they to late? The Entrance to the Chamber was at a snake-engraved sink tap on the Second Floor Girls' Lavatory. That much Bernard had told Thomas. The place where a ghost of a girl named Myrtle Warren, more commonly known as Moaning Myrtle was often found. This was where Thomas had met her too. She was nowhere to be seen, and from Thomas understood, she rarely left this place.

Had she been harmed too? Thomas hoped not, for all the ghost at the school, she was the only one not to avoid him, in fact, she was the only one to talk to him. Hopefully, Thomas wished, the ghost couldn't be hurt. That troll Thomas fought could, but whither or not that was a real ghost. Thomas would probably never know.

“A Corridor may be entered by giving the command of “Open” or “Open up.” To a snake engraved on the entrance in Parseltongue.” Lars said out loud, looking down the gaping hole. That was revealed without the bathroom sinks to block their view. “I guess, in a way, at least this solves one problem.”  
“Are we too late?” Bernard voice their shared fears, but his knees made him drop. Thomas grabbed him, holding him up by his side.

“We can't be, right Lars?” Thomas looked to Lars who was standing upright, but much paler. Thomas if he to looked like that? Pale, that even his lips lacked colour, but faced firm. Eyebrows shadowing over his eyes. Shielding them from their own fears.

“Jones said passed out, not dead. The man loves his gossip, but only if it's correct.” Lars gave Thomas, and Bernard a thin smile. “I'm not going to lie, it can't be good, but we still have a chance.”

“Should we hop down their then?” Bernard tapped Thomas on the shoulder. Thomas let his waist go, but kept his hand their, until Bernard stood upright on his own. Only then did he let it fall to his side.

“Does everyone have their wands?” Lars said pulling out his from his side holster. Thomas nodded and did the same.

“What kind of wizard do you take me for?” Bernard took out his own from the insides of his robes. “Let's go and save Pipa.”

“And all the other students too.” Thomas said, with a nod.

“The other students too?” Bernard looked at Thomas with surprise.

“If they're down there, we can't leave them can we?” Thomas looked at Bernard, his mind hitting a blank wall, at why Bernard would even question the idea.

“Even after everything they did?” Bernard asked, “Many people wouldn't.” Thomas gave Bernard words a quick thought, but shook it off.

“They may not like me, and they surly would leave me in the same situation.” Thomas had no doubts about that. “But if I want to be a good master vampire one day.” Thomas did want to be a good one, he wasn't sure if he wanted to lead or run things like Professor Nocturne did.

All he knew is that he wanted to be strong enough to stay with his friends. To do that, one of the things he needed to be was a good vampire, witch, even siren. Thomas added his other mother into his thoughts. To do all this, Thomas had come to the conclusions that there was one trait he needed to work hard at.

“I have to be a good man. Good men do not abandon people to bad places, because they don't like them.” Thomas said rolling up his sleeves, and walking over to peer down the hole. “Right?” Thomas looked over to Lars and Bernard.

“Right, Thomas.” Lars smiled so hard that his eyes sparkled a grey blue. “We'll save anyone who needs us.”

“You're a better man than me, Thomas. I'm not sure I could say the same.” Bernard, smiled. Once again, in that sad way that Thomas had begun to hate to see on his face. It made him older, and brought a grey cloud that weighed down Bernard shoulder's.

“What are you talking about Bernard?” Thomas said feeling a swell of confidence. Of truth. “I learned some of that from watching you, you know?” Bernard opened his mouth, but words failed to come out. “You stood up for me, more times than anyone. It would have been easier to leave me alone.”

“Yet, you didn't.” Lars said, patting Bernard hard in the back. “You are a regular gentleman, teaching us all sorts of things.”

“I did what you would have done too Lars.” Bernard turned away from them, but it didn't hard the dark red stain of his embarrassment peeking out. From his hair, in the form of his burning ear tops. “Let's go already.”

“Lumos.” Lars said lighting the edge of his one in a soft white glow.

“Lumos.” Thomas and Bernard said together. Their light shinning bright together. Making the entrance not as dark as it once was. Still, all they could see was the dark tunnel of who knew what that laid below.

“On three?” Thomas asked. The pipe, or tunnel was large enough for the three to jump together, so why risk the travel alone?

“Three.” Lars said and jumped down without them.

“Hey!” Thomas said, jumping in feet first like Lars.

“Well, just leave me behind then!” Thomas could hear Bernard shout and slid in after him. With Lars blond head as a guide. They fell in one straight line. Thomas expected some sort of ill feeling from the rushing wind, and the force that was pulling him down. Instead, he found the ride, while the circumstance were not, rather fun.

“Mmp!” Lars landed and rolled with a thud. Crunching what looked like to be some small stones and sticks in his wake.

“Ack!” Thomas fell into a running fall. Either something would stop him from running or he would fall, while trying not too. A large stone did the decided for him. Knocking the wind right out of him, and knocking him flat on his backside. “Ah!” Thomas gasped, getting his wind back into him.

“If you had waited for me.” Bernard came down with a soft thump. “We could have done the spell together.” Bernard shook his head.

“Lars started it.” Thomas said in his own defence. Standing up and shaking the dirt of himself, while looking around with his wand. To see what it was that they were standing on.

“You didn't have to follow.” Lars said, doing the same as Thomas. “What spell did you use by the way?”

“Arresto Momentum, it's used to help quidditch players that fall off their broom. To get the ground safely.” Bernard said with a shrug, “Lumos.” Lifting his wand he looked around. “Are we on top of a pile of bones?”

“They looked older.” Lars said picking up what Thomas thought might be a part of some creatures rib. “They're covered in a thick layer of dust.” Lars tossed it back into the pile back by their feet.

“Not all of them. Look.” Bernard pointed out a rough path forged from the piles of old animal bones. It's path? Leading straight into the darkness.

“Let's go.” Lars said, once again leading the way. Thomas got a chill in his heart. It flowed around him, whispering to him, like the darkness he had in him — had done.

“You guy's I have a bad feeling.” Thomas said rubbing his arm with his free hand. Something wicked was coming. Thomas could feel it.

“It's hard not to feel something bad down here.” Bernard said, shivering and walking alongside Thomas.

“No, I mean literally.” Thomas tried to explain.

“Baubillious!” A voice cried from the dark. Bright, white strikes of lightening came raining down them like blade strikes.

“Bernard!” Thomas pushed Bernard away from one of the strikes, jumping backwards, into the tunnel. With the strength he had showed when he had saved Squeakers, that time in flying practice.

“Thomas, run!” Lars said, “Impedimenta!” Lars spell targeted the witch who appeared out of the shadows. Both successfully slowing her down and pushing her back into the shadows.

“We need help,” Bernard said, “this is bigger than we thought!” Bernard stood.

“You should have thought of that, before you came, little boy!” A figure came at Bernard from the side.

“Petrificus Totalus.” Bernard flicked his wand and froze the wizard in midair. Dropping him like a stone to the ground. Not before his spell turned and hit the ceiling of the place they were in.

“It's coming down!” Thomas called out in warning. The rock above their heads turned into a rain of sharp stones, and deadly boulders. Thomas, couldn't watch out for his friends, as he side stepped a larger stone by going father back. Into the safety of the darkened tunnel, deeper into the Chamber. Thomas found safety from the cloud of dust, and stones that tumbled down. By hiding far enough back to watch the storm of dust in the dim light provided by his shaking wand.

“Lars! Bernard!” Thomas called out as soon as the dust cleared. Running to the stones blocking the tunnel. He couldn't make out a sound, outside of his own panting breathes. Not a whisper or a moan could be heard beyond the barrier of rock that stood before him. Thomas gave it a good couple of pushes — there was no way he could move it. Thomas didn't know any spells to move it either.

“How did this happen?” Thomas wasn't smart like his friends to pull out spells to get himself out. Not yet, but he felt in his gut, and so did that dark part of him. That this wasn't right. How could a ceiling, that stood solid for centuries, suddenly fall?

“Did they want this?” Thomas wondered. Not that, Thomas thought they wanted him, but only one of them. Both Bernard and Lars were from influential wizarding families — they could mean something. Alone, and by themselves. They would also be, another soul, waiting to be offered. To whatever task these strange wizards were doing.

“What should I do now?” Thomas had two choices. Wait here, because he knew in his heart, that his friends were okay. They had to be, or he could go on. Thomas turned his wand to the dark tunnel before him. “If I don't go...” Thomas couldn't imagine the fate that awaited him. “They would go.” Thomas thought of Lars, also smiling, and always bravely leading the way. Bernard, who would do the same thing — in his own way. In a quieter, more silent manner that was truly his own.

“I'll go.” Thomas looked to the rocks behind him, placing one hand on the bolder in front of him. “I'll be waiting for you guys to come save us.” Thomas whispered, before turning. Running into the darkness with only his light from his wand to guide him. Waiting any longer, Thomas would surly change his mind. Instead, he would rush forward, knowing that one way or another. They would come and rescue him.

“It's been awhile,” Thomas thought aloud. Walking with hastened steps thought the Corridor's dark, and rather scary paths. “Since I've been alone.” Thomas hadn't spent a moment without being able to reach out his hand, and have someone reach back to him, since the O'Sullivan's took him in. Professor Nocturne, or the Old Man, as he once was to Thomas. Was there, but not all the time, and of course, now Thomas knew why. Still, it was not the same.

“Now it's my turn.” Thomas tightened his free hand into a ball. Thomas would be that hand. Reaching out to whoever needed him beyond that wall. “Or snake?” Thomas said. Every nerve in Thomas’s body was tingled.

Not with fear, it was like the darkness inside him, the thing he was afraid of was eager. It wanted this door to open, yet Thomas what he would find if he did. And then, at last, as he crept around another bend. He saw a solid wall ahead on which two intertwine serpents were carved. Their eyes set with great, glittering emeralds. Looking at the great stone wall before him.

“How do I get past it?” Thomas wondered. Trying to feel along the wall for a seam or some other entrance. He wasn't afraid anymore, like the darkness in him, was wanting this door to open. Of all the times to be stuck in his own fear, now wasn't the time. Thomas pushed all that aside.

“Open up!” Thomas demanded. Pounding his fist on the door. He couldn't speak snake but maybe he could get it to listen to him anyway.

“Does he want in?” A stiff voice hissed from close by. Making Thomas freeze.

“I think so.” Another calmer voice spoke up, still holding a hissing sound but not as hard as the first.

“Should we heslp him?” A more child like voice asked.

“He is ours, after aslsl.” The calmer voice said.

“Akreed.” Said the stiff voice.

“Hello?” Thomas said tentatively. The voice were close by Thomas couldn't see them. What he heard didn't sound bad, but the not knowing was... unnerving. Yeah, Thomas was a bit unnerved. Not scared t all. Not him. “Whose there?” Thomas asked, proving is to himself that everything was well.

“Heslslo.” Three voices said at once. They were coming from. Thomas looked down.

“Ah!” Thomas jumped back hitting the wall. There were not one, but three snake heads coming out of his pocket. Wait, wasn't that were he was keeping his... “Egg?”

“Ve're not babies.” The right one spoke, it sounded female, at least to Thomas. It had green eyes that had a slight narrowest to them. Like she was always frowning, if a snake could frown that is. Thomas wasn't sure.

“Sorry,” Thomas said watching in amazement when the snakes came further out from his pocket. That it was not three like he thought, but one snake with three heads. They had a beautiful shimmering copper top. That showed up nice, and bright under the light from Thomas's wand. Underneath, appeared to be a pale yellow colour, like Lars's hair in the sun.

“Iou did not knov.” The middle one forgave him, she had a slight tint of red on her little face, like she was blushing. Thomas felt, out of the three, she would be kindest.

“Papa, Sl'll open the door for iou.” The third and left head. Chimed in with a smile filled with small sharp fangs.

“Papa?” Thomas was surprise by the name, but kind of warm by it to. They were cute, his little snakes. “I'll call you Triúr.” Thomas didn't know where the name came from, only that it suited them. At the moment that the named slipped from his lips. Thomas felt a sliding lock, click into place. That darkness that coiled inside of him. The thing that he used, but couldn't control, was a snake!

“You're my animal to call.” Thomas put his hand down, and Triúr used his fingers to slid up. Thomas could feel the softest of her as her small body to work her way up. She fit in the palm of his hand. “Your so cute.” Thomas's heart melted at the sight. Thomas thought finding his Animal to Call. Was going to be a big deal, or at least something more dramatic, but dying of cuteness. Could be dramatic, he guessed?

“Of kourse ve are,” Right Triúr spoke. They stopped and raised themselves up to speak.

“Are iou not forgetting sonething?” Middle Triúr asked, while the third one had a little snot bubble forming. Already half asleep.

“Ah!” Thomas gasped, he couldn't believe he had let it slip his mind! “Pipa! Wait how do you know?” Thomas asked Triúr.

“Ve aslwais knov, bekause it's iou.” Middle Triúr said with a little yawn stretching her mouth wide. “Ve must ssleep, but ve'll be here for iou... Papa.” Middle Triúr finished with a bashful turn of her head.

“Open,” Called all three. Like that. The snakes moved and the door parted.

“Thanks.” Thomas said, watching the three of them curl up in his palm, already half asleep. He slipped them back into his pocket. Taking extra care of its contents, as a good Papa should. Not once did Thomas stop to question. How he had spoken to his new baby Triúr? Certainly, that came along with the position of Animal to Call. Therefor, it didn't need much thought. 

Stepping pass the parted barrier of the wall. Thomas walked as fast as he could, without making much noise. Easier feet than he thought, despite the water now coated the path. Soon Thomas could snuff out the light from his wand. Keeping low, Thomas moved in a walking crouch. Wand at the ready. He was standing at the end of a long, dimly lit chamber.

Trying to take all the time he needed to look around. Searching for Pipa's soul, or any of the other missing students souls. He thought they would like ghost, but Thomas wasn't sure. He hoped, that it would be something Thomas could figure out. Taking advantage of the towering stone pillars. That were entwined with more serpents, like the emerald eyed ones. That decorated the Chamber Wall Thomas had entered.

Expect they rose high above him, becoming lost in the darkness. Lucky for Thomas they also castes long, black shadows that he could hide in. Through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place should be good enough to do so. If it wasn't in this location, Thomas might have actually like the place, but being down in the musty waters. Hiding from who knew what. Would ruin any room.

Thomas perked up when he saw the Corridor open up into a larger room, with better lighting. A shadow of a back could be seen from where Thomas hid. Thomas was trying to rack his brains to figure out what to do next, when the figure turned. The brighter light brought his face into full view.

“Professor?” Thomas couldn't stop the words that left his mouth. Any more than he could stop himself from stepping out to confirming what he saw. “How did you beat me here?” Thomas racked his brains, but there was no way. Unless? Thomas came to a horrible conclusion. He could have if... he was the one to first open the Chamber.


	24. The Past

“Thomas, why did it have to be you?” Professor Barlow stood before Thomas. Gone was his fun strike blue hair, kilt and robe. Instead, he stood in black. A heavy, cold black that hung around him. Like a ghost in a girl's lavatory, but with a darkness that no ghost at Hogwarts would have as their own.

His face looked pinched, it looked like to Thomas, that he was in a great deal of pain. Shadows begged his eyes. Aging him, changing him. Into what Thomas couldn't begin to guess. No, Thomas's hand shook as he pulled his hand back. Willing, yet unwilling, to believe, but ready to take his wand if needed too. Maybe, Thomas hoped — he was reading these all wrong.

Thomas looked around and strung up in the air. Was an image so horrible. Thomas's mouth opened, but not even a voiceless scream could escape from his throat. A dozen students. Hung like fish drying on unseen racks. Face twisted in different expressions — all of them were more wretched than next. Thomas looked on, placing a hand to his lips, to stop the acid from spilling from his mouth. Tasting his lunch on his tongue.

A clear image of each person. Made it impossible to deny that they were the missing student. Only a thin white outline. Shimmering, fading, dying... Made them even visible. Thomas glanced away, shaking, his breaths coming out in pants. Kept his mind from falling into a tunnel of panic. Unwilling to run away, Thomas looked again into the faces of the students he didn't know. Looking for the one he did.

Thomas looked at the three long rows. Both boys and girls, hung without reason. Some screamed without voices, mouths open, noses scrunched into their eyes. Others, were strung arms out, with their heads down, passed out, a small blessing Thomas imagined.

The ones on the bottom row. Looked much worse than the others. Their heads tilted back, eyes blank and unseeing. A white fog seeping out of their open lips. With a smell, a smell so vile. Thomas could only compare it to the unseen, horror hanging over them all. Death. It smelled of death. In that death he saw nothing, but a backdrop of a green still pond.

Like the poets wrote about, it appeared to Thomas that this room must have been a huge temple room. With pillars and carved serpents. There is a massive statue of a man, a wizard with his hand outstretched. Thomas felt very little hope in this place, but he had to try. Fighting back his fear. Thomas turned and looked at Professor Barlow once more.

“Please tell me Professor,” Thomas asked, he looked him straight in the eyes. “Please say you're here to help them.” Thomas looked to the man who had shown him kindness. Who had taught him how to fly on a broom without fear? That had offered his tea, and advice. Surly, that colourful man, despite his new black robes. Could it not be bad?

“Thomas,” Professor Barlow's eyes shook. His mouth quivered, but remained closed. When he turned away. Thomas had his answer. With a swirl of his robe, Thomas also says to girls. One was clearly Daniel's sister, and the other one was...

“Pipa!” Thomas called out. Grateful that she looked better than the rest. Her boy was more viable. More defined. From where he stood, Thomas could see a little mouse. Sitting on her chest. Feet moving towards her on instinct. Professor Barlow turned back around. Wand pointed at Thomas's face.

“Why did you have to come here?” Professor Barlow asked him. Thomas took a step back and took his wand out of his holster. Shaking like a leaf, he kept it at his side, unable to lift it and point it at his Professor. “Why?!” Sparks flew out the end of his wand.

“I had to save Pipa...” Thomas winced at the white sparkles sparking off.

“Why are you here at Hogwarts!” Professor Barlow yelled at Thomas. He could see tears budding on his lashes. “Why do you have to remind me of her?!” The tears started to fall, glitter pale green in the light of the room.

“Her, sir?” Thomas asked him. He wanted to help him. Recalling his words to Lars and Bernard not even an hour ago. I have to be a good man. Thomas reminded himself. Tightening his fist around his wand. Good men do not abandon people to bad places. Thomas changed one thing about it, what he said earlier.

“Lenore, my sweet little vampire wife.” The Professor cried in earnest. Tears falling hard, and coating his face. “Who would have so much loved to have you.” Thomas's mind was struggling to make sense of a difficult situation. He doesn’t have much headspace to deal with everything else that needed his attention.

“Your wife was a vampire, sir?” Thomas asked, vowing that he would help this man in front of him. Pipa needed him, but so did the Professor. Thomas was not hiding. That was what he would do, in the past. Hiding behind Lars, Bernard, and even Professor Nocturne. He wanted to be the good man, even though he was still a boy, he also wanted to save a good person. The person he felt that Professor Barlow was.

“Lenore, looked so much like you. So small, so sweet, so worried about others.” Professor Barlow shook, “She wanted a boy like you so bad, and that took her away from me!” Professor Barlow shot his wand to the side. Breaking the stone wall with a hole the size of him. Making Thomas wince and jump. “Witches and wizards alike! Hated vampires!” Professor Barlow shot another shot into the ceiling this time. “Hated her!”

“Professor!” Thomas shouted, running as the tumble of rock came raining down from him from above. “I understand that — I do!” Thomas tried to talk to him. Like how Pipa had understood, when she had spoken to him at the library.

“Of course you do!” Professor Barlow said, turning on him. Anger turning his body into a terrifying tower. “I heard what they did to you. The orphanage they put you into!” Professor Barlow gritted his teeth, yellow through them with a hiss. “Had I known about you then, had we known. I wouldn't have lost her! I wouldn't be alone!”

“You're not alone, Professor! Your students. These students!” Thomas pointed to the souls of the pained. “Me,” Thomas's voice wavered. “I care about you! Please, Professor help them.” Help me, Thomas begged he felt his own eye begin to well up. He thought he wouldn't cry — the brave didn't cry, but Thomas couldn't stop the tears.

“Please,” Thomas begged again, and for some reason, his mind kept racing to Pipa words in the library. 'You worry about a lot of things, huh?' Pipa had told him, while pulling on her pigtails with her hands.

“It's too late for that, Thomas.” Professor Barlow tears stopped, and looked at Thomas. Only looked.

“Professor it's too late.” Thomas waved his wand free hand about. “I don't know what this is, but stop it, and it'll all go away.” Thomas's heart was pounding in a wild, rapid, beast -filled with fear, and worried. 'My mom says worrying is how she cares, and you care about others.' Pipa's voice chimed in his head. Thomas looked away, and looked at Pipa.

“No, if I bring him back. Even silver. They bring her back to me.” Professor Barlow tilted his head back, his back slouching. He looked like a marionette cut off at the strings. Broken and alone on a stage.

“Who's back?” Thomas asked, taking a deep breath while taking that step forward. 'Thomas.' Pipa whispered, and he could feel a pull on his robe. Knocking Thomas to his side. Right then, Thomas kissed the water coated stone floor, and a spell stuck behind him. The source — Professor Barlow.

“I must bring him back, even a part of him. A memory.” Professor Barlow looked at Thomas. His eyes unseeing, nothing but mirrors reflecting the room. “With the Dark Lord back, or at least his power. He can wreak destruction. On those, who would rather of people like you, my wife labelled as monster.” Professor Barlow lifted his wand to his nose. A faint light shining in his eyes. “We will remind them what true monsters are — Thomas. So sleep, and it'll all be over.”

“No!” Thomas yelled and rolled dodging the next spell. 'Thomas, you are also brave.' Pipa had told him, she had looked at him with her brown eyes. Looking into his eyes unblinking. Her eyes had filled with tears, her words so earnest. She couldn't let her die. Not for this. Not for anything!

“Stay out of my way. It'll be over soon. The girl may be strong, but she too grows weaker.” Professor Barlow tried spelling Thomas again. Thomas moved faster than any other twelve year old could. Why? Because he was no ordinary wizard. 'What I'm trying to say. Is that you are a great guy Thomas.' Pipa whispered in his ears, though she laid there on the ground, nothing but a naked soul.

“Your friend Pipa. If it wasn't for that mouse, whatever that beast may be, she would have already perished to my spell.” Professor Barlow's were coming more often, but to Thomas. They appeared slow, and he was dodging them with ease. “She is a much-needed sacrifice. Think of your own future! Stay still Thomas!!” Professor Barlow shouted his name. Growling like an angry dog.

“Think of yours!” Thomas yelled back, waving his wand in a large loop, he cast the only spell he could think of. “Lumos Solem!” A thin, white light appeared in a beam. Blinding Professor Barlow, as he yelled and turned away from the light blinding him. Thomas ran to the girls side, to Pipa's soul. He didn't know if he could break whatever kept her, and them here, but he had to try.

“Pipa, Pipa, please wake up!” Thomas begged the sleeping soul, the ghost-like image of Pipa. He tried to shake her, but his hands went straight through. Chilling them to the bone. “Flee from here, please!”

“I didn't want to do this Thomas!” Professor Barlow turned to Thomas. Thomas lifted his head, only to the one already in motion. “Imperio!” Thomas shook, and acted without thinking. 'I'm sure you'll make a great vampire — if you let yourself be one.' Pipa was there for him again, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “Don't let the past with that Professor ruin your future with us.” Thomas remembered every quiver of her lips, when she gave him that wobbling smile. “Please.”

“Move!” Thomas demanded of himself. Jumping high, dodging the attack, but his flight came to an end when he struck the ceiling. “Ah!” Thomas cried out. The air rushing out of him. He fell to the floor with an unforgiving thump. “!” Thomas coughed up his body quivering over the shock of the double blows.

“That was unnecessary.” Professor Barlow stood over him. Wand at the ready. Thomas could only look up. “Don't look at me like that. It won't change a thing, only by helping them. Can I bring her back.” Thomas didn't know what Imperio did as a spell, but he knew in his gut. That he didn't want that spell placed on him.

“Mother!” Thomas didn't know what possessed him to cry out for her. He hadn't met either one of them, but he had spoken to one. That word had slipped from his lips, he thought of the only one he had spoken to. The one who had spoken to him, through Lars.

“What?” Professor Barlow said, making Thomas creak open one eye. Professor Barlow looked pale, and then he turned around and began to run. Thomas looked behind him. Water, like a tidal wave was coming down the corridor he had walked down to get here. It was coming fast. Thomas couldn't get to his feet fast enough.

A large movement of water formed by the funnelling of the narrow corridors. Rushed over Thomas, he struggled to stay by Pipa's side, by getting swept up in the current. It was not cold, but warm water. Thomas grabbed at his pocket, remembering his newborn snake. His animal to call, but the waves were too much.

Though he could breathe, the struggle against the water didn't stop. Thomas never once had he experienced anything deeper than a bathtub. He felt like he was being swallowed alive. That the water was taking him down, swallowing him. Thomas started to see little black dots form in front of his eyes.

“Good, for a first try. My little warrior.” Thomas remembered that voice. It was rough, and abrasive, but it felt... caring. Those were Thomas's last thoughts, before the water drifted him away.


	25. Home

“Triúr!” Thomas sat up with a snap. Shooting himself off of a nice warm bed. The room spun a bit, making Thomas grab his head for sturdiness.

“Calm down, Thomas.” Professor Nocturne was there, sitting in a chair beside him. His long white hair, hanging loosely over his shoulders. “Drink this.” Professor Nocturne handed Thomas a warm mug, with a light steam coming off of it.

“Triúr,” Thomas looked around, worried about his little three-headed snake. He did see her anywhere on the plain white sheets of the hospital wing. “I'm in the hospital wing?” Thomas said out loud, his mind clicking into what his mind was seeing.

“Yes,” Professor Nocturne said, his tone leaving no room to interject. Forcing the mug into Thomas's hands. “The fact that you don't know where you snake is, answers one of my questions.”

“She's dead,” Thomas' vision blurred, and his hands shook on the mug. Believing the worst.

“She's with your friend Pipa.” Professor Nocturne glared black daggers at him. Thomas wilted under the glare, and obediently put the mug to his lips. “She has a knack for magical beasts.” The contents were dark, and heavy, it coated his lips and throat as he drank it. After the first tentative sip, Thomas found it was a very flavoursome drink. The taste was sweet and juicy, unlike anything Thomas had before.

“Feel better?” Professor Nocturne asked him with a lifted brow. Thomas nodded and put the mug on the side table. The drink left him feeling refreshed. A zing of energy was passing through him. “Fresh blood is best when in need of healing.”

“Blood?” Thomas asked, looking puzzled at the mug. He expected it to taste different from what he had just had, coppery, like in the books he read.

“Yes — my own.” Professor Nocturne, raised a wrapped wrist. “I didn't need the wrap, but the head nurse here insisted.”

“Is Pipa really okay?” Thomas blurted out, unconcerned by the blood. “What about the others? Lars? Bernard? Who were those two who attacked us? Can they bring back the Dark Lord, I heard Harry Potter killed him? Is Professor Barlow truly a bad guy? He was always so nice. Did you know about his wife? She is a vampire too-” Thomas blurted everything out, and took a breath to continue. Professor Nocturne cut him off with a hand wave and a glare.

“Troublesome child,” Professor Nocturne sighed and rubbed his temples. “This once I'll answer your questions. Don't interrupt me.” A dark aura of shut up and listen encased him, Thomas nodded. Waiting for his answers.

“The troll was a failed attempt on controlling the impressions left by the Potter boy.” Professor Nocturne started off.”Which led him to taking more students. Why he chose the ones he chose, after the Potter girl.” Professor Nocturne shrugged. “I can not say.” Folding resting his hands the hairs of his chair, he continued. 

“I arrived in time to save your snake.” Professor Nocturne flipped his leg over his knee. “Congratulations on finding your animal. ” He lifted one finger. “Note she may be your animal, but not your partner.”

“What?” Thomas asked confused, slapping his hand over his lips. Hoping that didn't stop the Professor from talking.

“She listened to you, helped you, hatched for you. You're close, but you did not know where she was when you woke. The bond, the tie to one snake, who will rule over all your snakes. Is not there. This could be your mixed heritage, or simply that you are meant to meet a stronger snake than your Ruse-spoor. Only time will tell.” Professor Nocturne explained, Thomas nodded.

“Does this mean I can stay with my friends?” Thomas looked at Professor Nocturne. Hope budding in his chest.

“Yes, I saved you're O'Sullivan and Malfoy too.” Professor Nocturne smiled. Sending a chill down Thomas's spine. “Your Lars, was very disappointed I wasn't your villain.” He chuckled. “Seers are usually short-sighted when it comes to the present.”

“They're okay.” Thomas leaned back into the headboard of the bed. Relieved.

“All students trapped in the chamber got their souls back, and are perfectly fine.” Professor Nocturne nodded. “Professor Barlow, has of course been reported to the Ministry and will face a trial. Should he be caught.”

“He escaped then Professor?” Thomas felt torn, one part of him thought he should be tried. What he did was wrong, but on the other hand...

“Yes, I knew his wife Lenore. She was not part of my coven. Her death could have been avoided.” He shook his head, “Even vampires can be killed, Thomas.” The Professor looked at him, his face solemn. “Never forget that.”

“Can they really bring her back, or him?” Thomas asked, wondering what it must have been like. To lose someone so close. Someone who, Professor Barlow held so dear.

“Those Dark Wizards were dealing in some rather nasty magic. Older than the earth itself, and dangerous, very dangerous. Even I wouldn't talk about it freely, Thomas. Don't go poking your nose into it.” Professor Nocturne warned him off, but didn't answer his question.

“It could have worked then.” Thomas whispered. Shivering at the idea.

“Harry Potter left a heavy trace in this school, as did his nemesis Voldemort. These things leave a mark. One that can hold power, be it could or bad.” Professor Nocturne, leaned forward. “Much like how your Mother, Veronica, the Siren. Left a mark on you.”

“I don't have a scar.” Thomas said, thinking of the famous wizard. Touching his forehead as he did so. 

“Your mother was a magical creature, a siren. A warrior of her people. Her mark is in your blood, and her love is in your heart.” Professor Nocturne stood up and patted Thomas on the head. It was the most affectionate jester Thomas ever received from him. “Your love Thomas. Don't forget that.” Thomas swore he saw the older man's cheeks turn a tint of pink, but he turned away. Thomas wasn't about to ask him about it either.

“Professor, what's going to happen now?” Thomas asked, before he walked away from the complete.

“For you?” Professor Nocturne turned and lifted a brow. “Shortly, you will be getting dressed, and going to the end-of-year banquet. Where you will join your friends, learn and grow, then you will become a fine Master Vampire.”

“Master, me?” Thomas felt pride, warming up his chest. Professor Nocturne had praised him.

“Will become, you have much to learn, don't worry about the adult stuff. Be a child, be yourself Thomas. It is all your parents would want for you.” Professor Nocturne nodded, and gave him a backhand wave, leaving the room as he spoke. “It is all I want for you.” For the first time in his life, Thomas saw a gentle smile pass the Professor thin lips. “I am very proud at how you handled things down there, Thomas. Very proud.”

Thomas didn't question how he knew what went on down in the Chamber. It was the Old Man, Professor Nocturne after all. In Thomas' mind, the man knew everything, and if he didn't. He would find out. Hugging the blanket to his chest. Thomas couldn't gold it in anymore.

“Thank you, Old Man.” Thomas beamed out all his happiness. Calling his Professor, by the name he once knew him by.

“Ahem,” Professor Nocturne coughed. “See you at the banquet, Thomas.” Thomas was so happy, he forgot all about the scary stuff. He was fine, his friends, and the snake were fine. For now, why not be happy? Getting out of bed, Thomas came in contact with an angry Nurse, who insisted on helping him dress. With magic of course. Letting Thomas keep his modesty, much to his relief. Nurse or not — she was still a girl.

The dining hall was already in full swing. Decorated in a grandeur. In the rich and vibrant hues of Hufflepuff. Owls were crying out and flying high, back and forth along the great height of the dinning hall. The room was lit up brightly by the bright shining candles. Hanging as lanterns on the stone walls.

“Thomas!” Pipa screamed and ran at Thomas. Uncaring of the Headmaster standing at his pew.

“Pipa,” Thomas said, smiling so hard it hurt. Not carrying one with as her hug swung him around. From her neck slithered Triúr, whose three heads yawned before falling back to sleep. 

“I'm so glad you're okay.” Thomas hugged her tight. Taking in her warm scent. “Me, I'm fine!” Pipa said, pointing to Squeakers who appeared from the folds of her hair. “Squeakers too.” Thomas sighed, feeling a heavyweight getting lifted off his heart. 

“Thomas!” Bernard awkwardly patted his shoulder, from around Pipa. Who had yet to let him go?

“Bernard! I'm so glad you're okay.” Thomas grabbed the hand on his shoulder. Squeezing it tight. His honey brown eyes smiling.

“Me? What about you? Animal to call, confronting Professor Barlow. You did a lot in an hour it took us to get to you.” Bernard shook his shoulder. “You scared us to death.”

“I ought to never let you out of my sight again.” Lars came into view. Pulling Pipa, and Bernard into the hug. “Goddess you scared me.” Lars whispered in his hair.

“I scared me too,” Thomas whispered. Taking in the hug, that was too tight to breath, but not tight enough. To let them express how happy they were. To be back together again.

“Hack!” The four turned to see, Professor Longbottom clearing his throat with his hand to his mouth. “Please be seated.” The four of them blinked.

“Together?” Thomas asked. Professor Longbottom smiled, and every wrinkle in his face turned up too.

“Just this once.” Professor Longbottom said, raising one finger in the air. “Let's welcome Mr. Cloverleigh back, with our thanks. For saving his fellow students. From a situation most dire.” Professor Longbottom started to clap. Each Professor, except for one, but with the inclusion of one very important one. Professor Nocturne. Stood and clapped along with them.

Soon, in a wave. The students all around their group started to clap. Thomas looked around in wonder. Eyes falling on the Gryffindor, and even to Thomas's surprise. Daniel stood up, his sister at his side. Seeing the twin's together, they were like mirror reflections images of each other. Black hair, and sparkling green eyes. Together they clapped. Emma, Daniel's sister was even crying. From a distance, Thomas could see her mouth, 'thank you.'

Together Thomas and his friends walked to their table. On their way they caught words of thanks, and for some reason. Thomas was called, 'Little Vampire' by the Slytherin house. Together they ate, they laughed. No one brought up the empty Professor chair — the one that belonged to Professor Barlow. 

No one brought up the things lurking in the shadows. Today was a day of celebration and light. Afterwards, things returned to normal, with the exception. Thomas was more popular than before. Even Bernard was getting greeted in the hallways with a smile. 

When school grades finally arrive. Thomas did rather well, and Bernard and Lars grades were the top of the class. Pipa, and to what Thomas heard, Emma too. We're getting a pass, on the condition that they worked extra hard over the summer. All that was left, was for them to pack up and head home.

“What will you be doing this summer, Bernard.” Thomas asked as they loaded their bags into the train. A curious Triúr was viewing the world from around Thomas. Taking in all sorts of angles from the view from their three-heads. “Maybe, you could visit us?” Thomas passed Lars, Pipa's trunk. They had their rings — they didn't need to worry about carrying anything.

“Yes, I'm sure Mother will love, and even be thrilled to have you.” Lars said, Thomas smiled at Lars. Who winked. They both had their concerns over Bernard's home life. Thomas because of his own history, and Lars, because he didn't like how he was being treated. “You could stay a month or so.”

“Me too, don't leave me out!” Pipa said, Squeakers and her had their hands, and paws on their hips. Pouting.

“I'll try. It helps that your family is pure blood, but...” Bernard trailed off, passing his own trunk to get stored away. “I'll try.”

“Of course, your welcome too, Pipa.” Lars said, kissing the top of her head as they passed. Squeakers pointed to his head, asking for one too. “Of course, our hero mouse would be welcome too.” Lars kissed the top of his head. Flatting Squeakers ears with his lips.

“Triúr would like that too.” Thomas said, the three heads nodded before going back to their sightseeing. They didn't talk too much, but Professor Nocturne said that was most likely due to their age. In spite of their hunter, prey stereotypes. Triúr and Squeakers became fast friends.

“What are your plans?” Pipa asked, her twin tails flying as they entered the train. “Besides waiting for us to show up?”

“I can't practice the Patronus charm. I really wanted to keep trying though.” Thomas sighed, he already had his animal to call, but it was the principle of the matter. That made him want to form the Patronus now. “Not being able to practice magic outside of school, sucks.” Thomas sighed. Stepping in after Pipa.

“There are always potions.” Bernard said, “They are, to my surprise, not banned.”

“That's because they never meet Thomas.” Lars wrapped his arm around him. “The only student to get a perfect school on his exam.”

“I also have vampire lessons, too. Lars said he would help me out.” Thomas said to Pipa and Bernard.

“Can I help?” Pipa asked, opening the door to a free cabin.

“Help yourself first. You have a pile of homework to go though.” Bernard said, his voice taking a stern tone.

“Yes, Professor.” Pipa rolled her eyes and sighed. Disappearing into the cabin, with Bernard nagging at her heels.

“I can't wait until next year.” Thomas said, smiling. “It'll be less dramatic.” Thomas said, shaking his head at Bernard and Pipa's antics.

“Well,” Lars paused, and Thomas looked up at him.

“You don't think so?” Thomas asked, unable to read Lars's ever-changing eye colour.

“We can always hope.” Lars said, his hand at the small of Thomas back. Lead him into the cabin, and the end of their lives as first years.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading all the way to the end! I have plans to continue Thomas's story, so please follow and wait for his new adventures! Thomas Cloverleigh: Family Secrets. 
> 
> If your ever on DeviantArt, you'll find me under psto1464. There you will find free releases of this story. In both EPUB and PDF. 
> 
> Until we meet again~


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